


Retrace

by Tsuji



Series: The Twists And Turns Of Joy [2]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Adult Fear, Artistic License - Police Procedures, Endless Walls of Text, Family Feels, Feels, Happy Ending, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, More tags to be added as story progresses, PTSD, This will be a long one, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-31 02:02:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 40,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12122124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuji/pseuds/Tsuji
Summary: Andrew Bennett needs help before his sins and issues suck the life out of him, and has a long way to go to find peace.E. Aster Bunnymund has turned a blind eye to his past traumas, his mistakes and his pride for too long, and now they are coming back to haunt him.Jack Frost... has somethingvery wrongwith him.





	1. Whodunnit?

**Author's Note:**

> A snowy night, a bloodstained knife and a near-dead boy... how things ended up this way?
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of Suicide.

_Nothingness._

_That was the only word to describe what he was... experiencing._

_(For lack of a better word.)_

_He did not see, hear or feel a thing, for there was nothing to see, hear or feel._

_Nothing happened, and no one else existed._

_(Was he even there?)_

_He had nothing to do._

_(His mind - if he even had one - was empty as well.)_

_And for all of that, he felt at peace._

_All he wished for was to stay that way forever._

.......

He _really hated_ the cold!

It was a known fact to everyone who knew him, even in passing. Most plants either shed off their foliage or _died_ , there was snow and ice everywhere, and he risked losing his toes to frostbite if he stayed out for too long without appropriate protection - which tended to limit his movements to a considerable degree.

Okay, maybe he was exaggerating on the "losing toes" part. A bit. He knew better than to let that happen. The feeling of cold seeping into his very bones was already quite unpleasant either way. By all accounts, E. Aster Bunnymund would rather pass on going out in this kind of climate.

This time, though, it couldn't really be helped - he had received a request he couldn't refuse. So there Aster was, racing through streets and leaping across roofs, combing the city of Burgess in search of a certain larrikin who was clearly too irresponsible for his own good.

One of these days, he thought, he _really should_ sit down and design something to protect at least his _paws_ , which were always in contact with an ice-cold surface, without sacrificing mobility, just for these occasions...

The Pooka's internal complaining about the cold came to a halt, as did he himself, rising to stand on his hind paws and get a better view of his surroundings. Shifting from one foot to another to keep any one of them from getting too cold, he stood just on the outside border of a rather familiar grove of pine trees. He sighed tiredly.

It just figured.

His magic faintly sensed the presence of a living being. A small animal, less than a mile into the woods, by his estimate.

It was faint, like that of a _dying_ animal. And steadily fading.

A wave of dread washed over Aster, who dropped back to all fours and rushed into the woods, toward the dying presence.

It _could be_ some stray animal dying, he told himself as he ran. Even if nearby human occupation made it highly unlikely. Though it also wasn't anything to be happy about, it was much better than the alternative...

No, he had to keep up Hope.

Even if he also had to be always prepared for the worst-case scenario... even then, he still had to do his bloody job and _keep hoping_. He didn't have the right to stop hoping, no matter _how much_ it hurt...

And then the stench of blood hit him.

Along with it came the subsequent wave of nausea that made him stop dead, stand up and _retch_ with the intensity of it on his poor nostrils. Somehow the Pooka kept himself from vomiting outright, but only barely.

As soon as he made himself look ahead once again, he noticed a patch of snow stained red.

Just beside a tree.

Aster's stomach lurched. He stepped around the tree...

_Just a dead animal, right?_

He couldn't have felt more stupid, hoping against hope for something so ridiculous like that.

But all the hope in the world wouldn't do anything to improve the scene that greeted Aster, his worst fears materializing right in front of him.

A limp form lied under the tree. A human form. The Pooka's eyes widened in horror the more he took in the grisly picture.

(Lying in a pool of his own blood, mixed with snow.)

_No..._

(Eyes half-open, glazed over, unseeing.)

_Dear Man in the Moon, no..._

(A knife, covered in dried blood, lying beside him.)

It took Aster all of his mental conditioning as a former soldier and Guardian not to scream in sorrow.

........

A blonde teenager walked down snow-laden streets, carrying a lunchbox in her hand. She didn't even know how she managed to get up and leave her home that day. But there she was, almost dragging her feet through to St. Bridget's Hospital, because her mother waited for her there, and she certainly was _even more tired_. Which made it a wonder that she was still up and going. Because Sophie herself was, utterly and simply, exhausted.

It had been more than a week now... A snowy night, of which the snowfall gently piling up on the floor so painfully reminded her.

Andy had run away from home, and Sophie had been torn between anger and fear for her feisty younger brother. And their mother even more so, for sure. While she and Jamie turned to the police, their best means for help, Sophie turned to one only she had access to. A dear friend that only she knew about.

For Andy's sake, she called Bunny for help.

While she waited with her family, he went all over Burgess in search of the boy. Oh, she did want to go along at first, but Bunny had pointed out that it wouldn't be good for Jamie and her mother if she too went missing at a time like that. Which quickly withered her resolve. So she stayed back.

She did ask, though, to be brought to where Andy was once Bunny had found him. Especially since Bunny wouldn't be able to interact directly with the boy who, like the rest of her family, was a non-believer.

Bunny had hesitated at first, but - after a bit of pleading and a promise that she would be quick enough that no one would notice her absence - eventually agreed.

And so they had a plan. Once Bunny had brought her to meet Andy again, she'd talk some sense into him, argue with him, _drag him back home kicking and screaming_ if she had to. And Sophie prayed to God that it came down to "just" that.

That had been the plan.

Sophie stopped, and looked up sadly at the hospital building in front of her. Things had _definitely not_ gone according to the plan.

And now Andy was there. As was she. And her mother too. Jamie too, if only in spirit, since he was currently busy taking care of the house in their mother's stead.

It had come down to this. Not _the_ worst, but way too close to it. And now they all had a huge mess in their hands.

"Hey, Soph."

Sophie looked to her left, and there was Bunny, standing beside her at the entrance. He was bundled up in a dark green impermeable overcoat, along a brown woolen scarf, as well as matching dark brown boots, probably tailor-made to fit the Pooka's rabbit-like anatomy. His expression overflowed with concern and sympathy in the form of a gentle smile, and Sophie returned with a weak smile of her own.

"Bunny! I wasn't expecting you just now...", she said in a low voice - not that there were any people near them right now, let alone paying her any attention, but it never hurt to be careful.

When she looked up at her friend, though, she actually snorted. "The socks are new, though", she teased, gesturing with her eyes at the brown socks covering each one of his long ears. "Isn't that a bit too much?"

Bunny made a face. "Oh, you rack off!", he replied, though Sophie knew him well enough by now to know it had no actual resentment to it. "A bloke's gotta do what a bloke's gotta do, and a cold like this is no joke. And those are _ear warmers_ , I'll have ye know."

"Pretty sure ear warmers don't usually look like socks", she pointed out.

Bunny folded his arms, looked away from her and huffed, the perfect picture of wounded pride. Which Sophie also knew by now to be more theatrics than actual offense taken, so she just chuckled and shook her head at it. More importantly, she more than suspected - from a long time of association with the Pooka - that he was mostly doing that to try and lift her spirits in his own way, which she was grateful for.

After a moment of silence, Bunny spoke up, changing the topic without breaking character. "Never mind that. Mind if I go visit the ankle-biter with ya?"

Sophie couldn't help but smile wider. Bunny could - and probably had - checked up on Andy on his own before. Possibly even earlier that day as well. Yet, he had come there just to accompany her, and she couldn't be more grateful to him for it.

"Not at all! I'd very much like to have your company, Bunny!"

Bunny's own smile widened a bit and he nodded, walking up to her and companionably wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

Really, she was blessed to have such a caring friend.

..........................................

It was warm.

It was the first thing he noticed as he came to.

He felt warm.

It was so soothing, so comfortable, that he would have slipped right back into unconsciousness... if it wasn't for the light filtering through his eyelids.

Slowly, carefully, he tried opening his eyes. They felt quite irritated, and the light didn't help. It took him a while to adjust them to it... When he did, though, he noticed an unfamiliar ceiling.

_Wait... Could it be?_

And then it dawned on him.

He tried to scramble up into a seated position, but _something_ was lodged into his mouth and going all the way into his throat, and it _hurt_ , forcing him to lay back down.

"Whoa! Calm down, young mister!"

He gruntled in surprise, his voice partly muffled by the intruding apparel. Hurried footsteps approached him. He tried turning his head toward where the sound came from, only for that _damned_ apparel - whatever it was - to hurt his throat again.

His mind raced in panic. There was another person there with him? How long she - sounded like a she, at least - had been there?

Finally, she - and it had really been a she, as it turned out - came into his limited field of view. A middle-aged black woman dressed in blue emanated concern as she looked him over.

"Calm down, boy!", she cooed in a softer voice than before, placing her thin hands on his shoulders in a placating gesture. "You're going to injure yourself even more if you jump up and shift around like that!"

He gruntled again, this time in confusion. He rolled his eyes toward her in lieu of turning his head, and thanks to his half-conscious state and what felt like a goddamned _pole_ going down his throat, he couldn't manage anything more coherent than a slurry "Whazz goinn on...?"

The woman sighed. "I know this must be confusing, but do try to calm down, please. First off, I'm going to call the doctor so he can check up on you and have your tube removed, okay?"

He nodded reluctantly, forcing himself to calm down.

The woman seemed satisfied with his answer. "I'll be right back. Just stay calm, and don't move around too much."

Then she turned and left the room quickly.

Once again alone, he propped himself up a bit, carefully so as to not jostle the... "tube" in his throat - which thankfully didn't hurt nearly as much now - and looked around. He was in a hospital room. So the woman he'd just spoken to was most likely a nurse.

Good. Now he had some privacy to think. This calmed him down somewhat.

His mind was still racing, though, as he fully recalled what had happened. People in the movies and TV shows always seemed to remember things bit by bit when waking up after a traumatic event, but alas - either real life was not like that, or _he_ wasn't.

He reached up feebly with a trembling hand, and touched the side of his neck, searching... until he found several little hard nubs along his skin.

Stitches.

_I... was saved!_

.......................

 

Carla sat by herself in the hospital's otherwise unoccupied cafeteria, hands fiddling with her half-finished cup of black coffee. The now-empty packet of Snickers had done little to quell her hunger - it would take _real_ food for that. Always had and always would.

The emotional shock of... well, the reason she was here... had mostly dulled by now, morphing into a deep weariness visible through her crumpled clothes, disheveled hair and baggy eyes. That, and her back popping in places it never had before, whenever she tried to stretch away at least a little of the tension.

Thankfully, her daughter should be on her way, and her company would certainly make her feel a lot better. The lunchbox she'd asked her to bring would also help.

And also thankfully, she didn't have to wait long until Sophie came in through the door, calling for her.

"Oh, hi, dear!" Carla rose to her feet and pulled her daughter into a tight hug.

Sophie hugged her back just as tightly. "I've been missing you."

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry..." Carla stood back to face her, ruffling her hair.

She really was. She had never liked to stay away from her kids for too long, and thus never liked it when the circumstances forced her to, like this.

Sophie shook her head. "It's okay, Mom. I understand."

That was her beautiful, strong girl.

"I've been missing you too...", Carla said. And promptly proceeded to prove that by rapid-fire interrogating her daughter about her daily life, such as whether she was eating properly, and doing all of her homework, and sleeping properly.

Sophie patiently gave satisfactory answers to all of her questions, with the usual color commentary that always amused her, like "Yes, Mom, History too, before you ask", "Jamie's food is okay, but it just isn't the same as yours", and "No, I haven't eaten asparagus and I never will, and neither you nor Jamie can make me."

Carla could say she didn't mind the last one because it was the _only_ vegetable she ever refused to eat. But really, where was the fun in that?

Either way, this little exchange with her daughter had done more to lift her spirits than she thought it would have. So much so that she was starting to feel in the mood for a _little_ teasing.

"And when will you bring that guy over... Dan, was his name? I want to meet my future in-law."

Sophie promptly made her best impression of a tomato, which made Carla's day all on its own. But she wouldn't miss Sophie trying to talk her way out of that for _anything_.

"W-w-whaaaaa?", she mumbled, and then swallowed hard. "What are you talking about, Mom? You're getting it all wrong! He's just a friend, that's all..."

It took Carla a lot of willpower not to just burst out laughing at her daughter's beet red face and ruin her own serious facade in the process. "Oh, really? But he's such a nice catch. So athletic and handsome and funny and kind and waaaaaah..."

Sophie's face somehow became even more red. "W-where did you hear that?"

Carla donned her best unimpressed look for the coup de grace. "I'll have you know that your room isn't quite soundproof, young miss."

The way Sophie was reduced to a flustered beet covering her face with her hands was almost cartoonish, complete with muffled wailing, and Carla had to be thankful that Sophie wasn't looking at her when her control of her face started to slip. Really, it was just too much fun to act the embarrassing parent...

Sadly, it wasn't meant to last long.

"Mrs. Bennett?"

Carla and Sophie looked at the door, where the voice had come from, their faces quickly becoming serious. She recognized the nurse standing by the cafeteria door as the one who had just called.

"Yes?", Carla asked, feeling herself tense up. The nurse's reply was curt.

"It's your son, Mrs. Bennett. He's woken up."

...........................

The Bennett matriarch all but raced the infirmary, clearly having come as soon as she got word of him waking up. She must have met Sophie somewhere along the way, for the girl followed right along her mother.

Mrs. Bennett quickly sidestepped the nurse, walked up to him and wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders. "Oh, my God, Andy. I'm so glad..."

Andrew could only sit still and stare at his own lap while all of Mrs. Bennett's love and tears washed over him, his whole body tingling with it.

After Mrs. Bennett was done with him - for the moment, anyway - it was Sophie's turn. She hugged him and talked to him much like her mother before her ("Thank God you're okay, Andy, I was so worried..."), and again Andrew could just receive it wordlessly.

He could feel his heart catch in his throat. Both mother and daughter were very loving and caring women, and clearly loved him to pieces, and it was all so much more than he'd ever deserved.

It made him feel even worse that he was going to have to break their hearts when he told them...

.........................

"Officer Paul Jones!" The police chief had started as soon as he was standing in front of him and across his desk, now dutifully waiting for his orders. "It's about that one case from three weeks ago... that of the Bennetts."

Paul was now walking down the corridors of the St. Bridget's Hospital. The one that the victim, an eight-year-old boy named Andrew Bennett, foster son to the Bennetts, had been admitted to in critical condition after running away from home. A very tragic outcome for the kid's stunt, just short of the worst one, if he was to describe it.

Even besides that, the whole story had more holes in it than a Swiss cheese could ever hope to. Not only was there not a single clue as to who the criminal could possibly be - no fingerprints on the weapon was obviously to be expected, but the boy had basically _just been found dying all alone on the hospital's front door_. With no signs of another person whatsoever - not even some footprints in the thin layer of snow covering the sidewalk back then, as told by the staff working at the time.

As if that didn't sound eerie enough, the hospital itself was practically all the way across the town of Burgess from where the boy's home was. The same applied to the school he attended and any other places he had been known to hang out around.

There weren't even any signs of resistance from the boy either, as the forensic doctors had helpfully informed.

Without much to work with, Paul and his team could only deduce that they were dealing with a criminal mastermind to make Agatha Christie proud, or there was some kind of huge misunderstanding going on. Their best lead now was to go get a testimony from the boy himself, the sole known witness of his own case.

And that was what brought him to where he was now. Truly, the only reason he and his team were on that case now was because they had been the ones to take Mrs. Bennett's call, back when it had appeared to be "just" a runaway child case.

His trail of thought was cut short when he came across Mrs. Bennett and her daughter, who both stood in the corridor, waiting for him just in front of the boy in question's infirmary.

"Good morning, Mrs. Bennett", he started, putting on a friendly smile and gently shaking both of their hands in turn for a greeting. "And Miss...?"

"Sophie, sir." Paul took mental note of the name. Then, he addressed the family's responsible once more. "I'm glad to hear your son has woken up and appears unharmed."

A small smile and a curt nod were the woman's reply. He could sense a special kind of bravery in her, having not diminished one bit from when he'd first met her that fateful night, in spite of the visible anxiety threatening to consume her then, and the equally visible fatigue from weeks of looking after her hospitalized child now. It most likely came from being a single mother to three children, he concluded.

"I'm terribly sorry that we have to confront the boy directly about the case, especially while he's still recovering from it, but I'm afraid we have no other leads or witnesses."

Mrs. Bennett gave a concerned look toward her daughter, Sophie, as if waiting for her acknowledgment. It didn't take long to come in the form of a hand on the shoulder.

"We don't like it either, sir. But... we understand. If we want to find whoever did _that_ to our Andy and make sure they never do it again, we have to do it. Andy said he understood too. He's waiting." Though he could see the young girl's hand tremble ever so slightly on her mother's shoulder, her voice had been clear, and her eyes never turned away from his as she spoke.

Jones had to commend the two women in front of him for their strength of mind and devotion to each other. "Thank you both. That said, I believe it would be best if we got this over with as soon as possible. Shall we?"

The two women quickly nodded in agreement, and turned to walk into the infirmary, Jones following close behind.

..........................................

Andrew looked at the ceiling, lazily fiddling with a pen in his hand which he had been using to draw earlier, the piece of paper with his doodles resting on the cupboard beside him.

A police officer was coming over for a visit, he'd been told. He was in charge of his "attempted murder" case, and wanted to talk to him, hopefully to find out from him who stabbed him in the neck. And possibly how did the culprit in question evaded the eyes of everyone, or why did he do it at all.

He _did_ know what had happened up to the point where he lost consciousness, mind. But the whole story didn't add up even to himself. He didn't know, for example, _who_ had saved his life. And how had they gotten him to a hospital without being found out - quite far from the crime scene at that, but from what he could gather, somehow no one else had seemed to know about that detail, and so he had decided to keep it to himself.

He'd at least wanted to know the whole story...

A rapping on the corridor window whisked him back from his musings.

Andrew put away the pen and looked up at it. There were Mrs. Bennett, Sophie and his expected visitor.

Very well, then. Time to end this.

One nod of acknowledgement from him and they were all filing into the room. The officer, a tall dark-skinned man with broad shoulders, stopped by his bedside while Mrs. Bennett and Sophie stood by the bed's feet.

"Good morning, Mr. Andrew." He shook Andrew's hand once, firm and curt. "I'm Officer Jones. Your mother informed you of my visit and the reason for it, I presume?"

Andrew glanced pointedly at Mrs. Bennett before fixing an emotionless gaze back on the man. "Yes, sir. You guys are out of clues for my case..." The boy made a point to theatrically draw a breath and place a hand on his own chest for emphasis, all the while maintaining his best dull expression and voice. "...and you want to try and get the answers from the victim itself, me."

The officer paused, raising an eyebrow at his usual "nonchalant irreverence". He was professional enough to not let it get to him for long, so points to him for that. "Well... that would sum it up. So, to get things started, can you tell us what you remember?"

Andrew briefly summed up the cold facts as best he could - how he had run away from the Bennetts' house after a pretty harsh fight which "he'd rather not go into detail about" (Mrs. Bennett and him both frowned at that, though in his case it was only internally), and walked a pretty far distance from there all the way to some secluded woods near a suburban area, got his neck stabbed and somehow wound up admitted at the hospital they were currently in.

"That's all of it, I suppose." Except not quite. There was a crucial detail that he had left out, and saving for last.

"I understand." Officer Jones stopped jotting down his notes. "And what about the criminal? Do you remember anything about them?"

There was the million dollar question.

Ever the dramatic, as he was so many times called by so many different people, he stood up from his bed for the first time since the officer had arrived.

"Well..."

He walked away from the three other people, who kept their eyes on him. He walked until he was standing on the middle of the room.

Then he turned on his feet and smiled quite darkly.

"I suppose you're talking to him right now, Mr. Officer."

Two gasps were heard, followed by a "What?" and a "No...", both laced with incredulity. The officer, who was closest to him, had his face slowly turning to a shocked one.

"Wait. So that means...?"

The boy didn't let him finish. "This?" He pointed to his own neck, where the wound he had carved into it with a kitchen knife and his own two hands was now stitched. "Me."

"Why?"

Andrew looked at Mrs. Bennett, who had managed the question between sobs. Yes, she had started crying. Sophie held on to her mother, her own eyes also filled with tears. He smiled at them both, feeling his own eyes water and his throat constrict.

"Because you're better off without me."

Seeing them sad and anxious like this hurt him _so much_... And he was always the cause of it.

_Always._

All he could do was make this the last time.

"Andy, please, don't say that..." Sophie's voice was so thick with sadness it was all he could do to ignore it.

But he had to.

"I was never meant to be saved at all... I should have died alone in those woods!" Funny how he sounded like some comic book villain explaining his plan to the enemy. It made sense, he thought, because he _was_ the villain of his own life. Always hurting everyone and pushing them away... and naturally ending up alone and unloved.

Enough of that.

He swiftly pulled out the pen he had hidden earlier. He heard Sophie gasp sharply then, and ignored it. He _wouldn't stop_ , no matter what.

At least this way _only he_ would suffer endlessly.

"And now, if you don't mind..."

He raised the pen and pointed the tip to the stitched wound.

Three sets of eyes widened before him, as they were wont to do. Their eyes could only see a "child" about to die. They probably could not see him for the devil incarnate he was.

The tears he had been holding back until then fell down his face. This was it. This was the end.

He actually grinned. This time, he'd _do the job right_!

"I'll finish this whole mess!"

..............................................

_No no no no no NO!!!!!!_

He couldn't let this happen! He had to _stop it_!

Without thinking, Aster leapt from where he was right at Andrew Bennett before he could take his own life... and promptly passed through boy and implement both, just like a ghost.

"No!" His voice was heavy with grief.

Not again.

Someone was going to die right in front of him and he was powerless to stop it.

Panic bubbled up inside Aster's chest. His breath grew ever more labored, and his head was spinning. He started to hear screams of a long-forgotten time, sounds of destruction that clearly were not there.

And soon enough, the Pooka himself was not there. Staring across the wall he fell near to, the lights were on, but no one was home.

Aster keened in fear and grief. Cowardly, regretfully, and completely deaf to the sounds of struggle behind him, he opened a tunnel and ran blindly down it...

......................................

"Ngh! Ah..."

Sophie had leapt at him out of nowhere, grabbing his hands and pointing them away from his neck. Then, as a result of the sudden, reckless move, she tumbled into him, and both landed roughly to the ground, her sprawled on top of him.

Now, as Andrew tried to shake the stars away from his field of view, he felt Sophie get up and try to wrench away the pen still in his hands.

"Sophie, stop it..."

"NO, YOU STOP IT!" Sophie was now kneeling beside him, the pen in her hand. He saw her toss it aside frantically before she turned to talk to him once more, her voice heavy with sadness. "DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN!"

His voice grew more desperate. "Let me go!" His demand meant more than it sounded like. Let go of him now, and _forever_!

And Sophie replied in kind. "NEVER!"

He felt another set of hands on his arms and legs, and then another one. They were restraining him. He bravely tried to flail away, but it was fruitless.

"Andy..." Hearing Mrs. Bennett's voice so low and pained damn well tore his useless heart into two. "Please... don't do it."

And then he heard another set of steps hurrying toward the tangled mess on the floor that was Andrew trying to rid the world of an evil and Mrs. Bennett, Sophie and Officer Jones trying to stop him.

Soon after, he felt another hand grabbing his arm. He yelped as something pierced it, and injected something else into him.

_No!_

Andrew's stomach dropped. It had to be a _sedative_.

Andrew yelled and tried even harder to free himself, but even then it was to no avail. The three people pinning him down were way too much.

He could feel his body give out on him. And then his mind as well.

Panic rose within him. He couldn't sleep now...

The more he thought, the harder it became to stay awake.

He had to end it... He had to...

But he was _so tired_...

..............................

Sophie gradually released her hold on Andy's body as the sedative took effect, as did her mother and Officer Jones beside and across her. Eventually he was still, looking like a dead fish with his eyes wide open.

Dead, like he had wanted.

Sophie couldn't bear to keep looking at him like that, especially when the nurse moved to close his eyelids, so she turned away.

Instead, she looked from her mother, who had her bloodshot eyes still fixed on Andy and her face awash with tears, to Officer Jones and the nurse who had brought the sedative, eyes shining with sympathy from both of them.

Lips pursed and eyes stinging, she sobbed as she looked at the spot where her best friend had been at, before he _left_ her to deal with this mess on her own.

Then, as the grief reached its peak inside her, she buried her face in her own hands and _wailed_.


	2. Catharsis

_Snow fell down all around him, a beautiful landscape of silver clouds above and a field of endless white below, stretching as far as the eye could see._

_He floated far above the snow-covered prairies, a humble little snowflake dancing in the wind. Back and forth and up and down he went, silent and uncaring and blissfully alone..._

.........................................

Sophie Bennett crossed ever-blooming, carefully pruned fields of flowers interspersed with egg fields, passing by the dye river flowing as bright-colored as ever, searching the Warren for its owner.

Almost a week had passed since Andy... tried to _stab himself to death_ \- the memory made her shudder. Bunny had leapt forward to stop him, and well... Andy didn't believe in the Easter Bunny, so it didn't quite work out. And then _she_ had had to leap in, before Andy went through with... _that_. By the time she, her mother, the officer and the nurse had subdued and sedated Andy, Bunny just _wasn't there anymore_ , and well... she couldn't deny that she had felt kind of _abandoned_ by him at the time.

After she had the time to calm down, put that whole awful ordeal behind her and her head in place, though... all she could think of was how Bunny must have felt. Because more than anything, she knew the Easter Bunny was _brave_. 

She vaguely remembered a battle he fought in for the sake of the world a long time ago. _That_ took courage. And then there was the whole deal where Jamie stopped believing and the Pooka _still_ checked on him. Which, Sophie came to understand one day, took a whole _different_ kind of courage.

So case in point, Bunny _was_ brave.

But even brave people had their weaknesses. 

Bunny wouldn't run away like that without a good reason. She should have known. She felt ashamed - both for having ever thought ill of her closest friend, and for having only thought of _herself_ and how she'd felt in the heat of the moment. But most of all, the whole thing made her really begin to understand how little she actually knew about Bunny.

_Is ignorance really a blessing, after all?_

The Pooka hadn't spoken to her since. No matter what was plaguing his mind and driving him away from her, she just wanted to _be there for him_. She couldn't deny that she wanted her friend _back_ as well, but at least she wasn't being _entirely_ selfish anymore.

Right?

And that was why she was there today, on his doorstep. She would find him and talk to him, even if she had to _camp_ just outside his private burrow for a whole day.

Luckily, she didn't have to go that far, for she found him on the garden just outside his private burrow, built into the side of a hill, a compost sack and shovel laying on the floor by his feet. He was already standing and looking her way when he came into Sophie's view - the teenager figured he had most likely sensed her coming with his magic.

Sophie stopped a couple steps away from Bunny, and then both stood silent for a few moments, green eyes gazing at each other. 

"Hi, Bunny", she prompted.

.........................................

Aster had somehow found it in him to stand and look Sophie in the eye, after his poor display of character that day in the hospital - in fact, _because_ of it. 

He had decided he _would_ face Sophie and explain her what happened. The young sheila _deserved_ to know why he had run away like a coward. It was already bad enough that _she_ had come to _him_ for this, and not the other way around, so at least he'd man up _now_ if it _killed_ him.

"Hi, Bunny", she prompted, her voice and expression devoid of sarcasm, anger or even sadness, brimming with pure respect and understanding. 

That was to be expected. It was Sophie, after all. And yet it made him feel _worse_ , somehow. 

But he couldn't back down regardless. He _wouldn't_! That Sophie had come for him meant she was willing to talk it out at least, so he wouldn't run away _again_!

"G'day, Soph", he mumbled, unable to keep a _very_ awkward smile away from her face, but he had already let her greeting hang in the air for _way too long_. Fumbling for his next words, he eventually went with: "I suppose... it's time we have a lil' chinwag."

Such eloquence.

His awkwardness seemed to lift Sophie's spirits a bit at least. She snorted, though a little humorlessly; which was understandable given the circumstances. "Yeah, I suppose so".

His favorite ankle-biter then cleared the distance between them and caught him in a hug around the waist.

Aster was startled for a second, and then wrapped his own furry arms around her shoulders in response. Though it did little to soothe his own heavy heart, maybe it would help soothe hers a little bit...? 

It was the best he could do for her now, so he could only hope.

They walked up to the nearest wooden bench afterward, where they sat side to side. The Pooka rubbed away the smudges of earth on his paws as best he could, while focusing his thoughts on how to even begin to explain everything he wanted to...

"Andy's still alive, just so you know."

And there went his concentration.

Aster gasped, eyes widening and head jerking back at her. "Man in the Moon, really?", he said, more to himself than to Sophie. He had taken the boy for dead after... well, after. And it wasn't like he'd have the _nerve_ to go check for himself after he'd so shamefully ran out on his favorite ankle-biter...

"Yeah..." Sophie didn't sound too happy. "He's under psychiatric care now."

Aster deflated, humming his understanding. It figured, the Pooka thought. He knew all too well just how hard clinical depression and suicidal ideas were to overcome. The subjects were always resistant to get help, one way or the other, due to thinking themselves either not in need of help, or not _worthy_ of it.

Truth be told, he could even say he knew from _his own experience_.

"At least the sprog is alive", Aster tried, putting a hand on Sophie's shoulder. The young Sheila seemed to appreciate the gesture, as she leaned into his touch.

"Yeah."

Silence. They both looked out at the distant flower fields, Aster himself at a loss for words. He knew this moment would have to come sooner or later if he didn't want to just disappear from Sophie's life forever - which he _really_ didn't. But for the Man in the Moon above, he couldn't bring himself to speak just yet... So much for being a former Pooka soldier and Guardian of Childhood.

Aster had never opened up about his past with anyone - not with Tooth, North or Sandy; and especially not with _Jack_. Not to the extent he was about to. And quite honestly, that _terrified_ him. 

He was afraid of not being able to tell everything to the end. Or instead, of not being able to stop once he began. It didn't help at all that his memory came to him with the usual _lovely_ flashes of smoke, blood, screams, countless bodies dead and corrupted, burnt trees and grass, and most of all the immeasurable grief painting it all black. 

But most of all, he was afraid of losing what little respect he still had from Sophie.

The Pooka knew he was being irrational, though - he _trusted_ Sophie. He'd grown so close to the young sheila over the last years... closer than he'd thought he'd ever become to a mortal human. He went as far as telling her that he was a Pooka and had come from a distant galaxy - and even that was a _huge_ deal as far as Aster was concerned. The only other ones he'd told even that much were his fellow Guardians, so he actually trusted her about as much as he did them by now. If not _more_.

And - perhaps even more importantly - the incident at the hospital showed Aster that he _needed_ to do something, to confide it to _someone_ , or it'd come just back to bite him in the arse again, just like it did then... No. 

He was _not_ walking away from this.

Five minutes, some shifting around on his seat and _several_ deep breaths later, he cleared his throat and managed to start talking.

...........................................

"So you believe your death will solve everything?"

The psychologist's ever-professional tone had her audible concern to it now. Andrew didn't respond right away, just stared at the ceiling. 

"I..." 

When his voice finally came out, it sounded more choked than he'd ever heard it. It was almost impossible to _breathe_ because his heart felt like it was going to blow up in his throat, tears were running down his face, his ears rang and his head was spinning. He felt just as bad as he did that day almost a week ago. Or the day he ran away from the Bennett's' home, when this whole hell on Earth began.

He'd thought psychologists were professionals you spoke your mind to, and received advice on your life for it. And that would be all. He never thought it would _hurt this much_. 

It didn't help that he had just come from a long, grueling period of being tied to his bed - not to say _gagged_ as well, so he'd not bite his own tongue, they said. _And all that because he tried to end it all in the best way for everyone!_

Trembling from head to foot on the sofa, Andrew leaned forward, clutching his head and scrunching his eyes, trying to fight back the dizziness, the tears and the panic all at the same time, which was proving futile. How could they all even think otherwise? His very existence was just hell for himself and a burden on everyone around him. If he was gone they could just _forget he ever existed_ , and then he'd repent for all his sins in the actual Hell where _only he_ would suffer!

So why not just let him die?

"Andrew?"

So she wanted to know if his death would solve everything?

"Yes", he breathed.

She said something in response, but he couldn't even make out what now. All he heard now was his own ragged breathing. 

"Andrew?"

He could feel himself shutting down, and he would just let it happen. He _needed_ it.

"Andrew?" Her call was more insistent this time.

He couldn't bear to see, to hear, to think, to breathe, to _feel_ \- he wanted _none_ of that. He just wanted it all to _end_!

He didn't even feel his body hit the floor after that.

...........................................

Sophie was far past the point of blinking away her tears, which now kept running down the face no matter how much she tried to wipe them away. Oh, Bunny...

Not Bunny. Aster. 

Aster, who had seen his friends and family die gruesomely by the hands of mindless abominations called Fearlings - or else be turned into one of them. Aster, who saw the General he and his people once admired become the King of Nightmares and leader of the very monsters he'd once fought. Aster, who had been forced to escape with the First Light to give the Universe a chance to survive and defeat said threat, and leave behind the rest of his people to _suffer genocide_. Aster, who had waited - for longer than the Earth itself even existed, longer than she could even _begin_ to fathom - for his people to come for him, praying that someone else, _anyone else_ had managed to escape the slaughter... to no avail.

Aster, who had survived all of that and was now telling the tale.

The Pooka had to pause before continuing from time to time, and each pause lasted longer than he previous one before the Pooka managed to continue talking. Sophie repeatedly told him that he didn't have to force himself to tell her all that, becoming increasingly desperate the more she saw him break down in front of her - as if the story wasn't sad enough on its own. But every time Aster just insisted that _yes, he had to_ , and would she _please_ stop interrupting him?

Now the Pooka had been reduced to a teary, hyperventilating mess. _And he still wouldn't stop talking!_

Poor Aster was raving on about how he was shaping the Earth and the continents hundreds of thousands of years ago when she pulled his head down into her chest and _begged him to stop_.

"That's enough, Aster!" She used his proper name, which she'd just learned, for greater effect. "Enough! STOP THIS! PLEASE! NO MORE!"

She could feel Aster trembling now that she'd gotten hold of him, as well as his ragged breath. Head resting on her chest, his eyes were transfixed, tears flowing down in rivulets - much like her own.

At least he'd _finally stopped talking_.

Then Aster _buried his head in her chest_ , his arms clutching her shoulders like a vice, and just stood there, _panting_ , like he had just nearly drowned and she was his lifeline. 

Sophie's heart just broke in two right then. Cradling her suffering friend closer, she scrunched her eyes, pushing even more tears down her face. _How_ could she have let him hurt himself like _this_? Because of some stupid sense of honor of his? Perhaps... 

But more than that, it was because _she_ was _so_ determined to _know_ , no matter _what_! Once again, she had only thought of _herself_!

"I'm so sorry, Soph..."

A chill crept down Sophie's spine, and she looked at Aster again. His voice was a whisper filled with sadness...

"I'm sorry I'm so weak..."

_Dammit..._

Why had she ever _doubted him_ to begin with? Why did it take things getting to this point for her to begin to _understand_?

Sophie regarded the traumatized mess Aster had made of himself - because of _her_ \- and clutched him tighter still. 

In the end, she was still _way_ too spoiled...

...........................................................

If asked a week prior, Carla wouldn't think her life could get any worse than it already was. To be perfectly honest, she wouldn't _want_ to think of such a possibility. Not after her little Andy had run away from home and nearly gotten himself _killed_ , she didn't.

Fast forward to the present, and she almost could have laughed at her past self's naivety.

Carla was looking at her youngest son now - by law and heart, if not by blood. He laid in his hospital bed, unconscious, while she ran her hand over his brown hair, her own face just as it had more often been the last few weeks - awash with tears.

The psychologist had to call an ambulance to bring him back in, because he'd _fainted_ during his appointment. As if that wasn't bad enough, Carla now had the guilt of having jumped to conclusions and accused the poor lady - complete with screams of "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY SON, WOMAN?" - before she could even try to explain that the boy had "just" had a _panic attack_ weighing on her already strained mind. To think he'd _finally agreed_ to it too - after _a lot_ of insistence from her, Sophie and even Jamie...

And then there was the cause of all this. The thought of her little boy being... _suicidal_... it just made her sick to the stomach.

 _Her little eight year old boy_ , for God's sake!

"Mrs. Bennett?"

Carla wiped her tears once more, and looked over her shoulder to the psychologist, that pang of guilt stinging anew. The staff that had helped them bring Andrew back in had excused themselves by now, but the diligent woman had stayed back, claiming she had something to discuss with her as the patient's mother.

"I don't mean to rush you, dear, but I have to go back to my office. And I _really_ wanted to talk to you about Andrew before I go..."

Carla walked over to the silver-haired elderly woman, Mrs. Pendleton, looking straight at her eyes. They reflected a wisdom compatible with her age and an energy that belied it, though they had a sort of downcast seriousness to them now.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Pendleton." She bowed her head. "I'm listening."

The elder cleared her throat. "Okay, so... before the poor boy knocked himself out... he actually managed to tell me quite a bit about himself. And from what I've garnered, he has always been a very independent one, right?"

Carla nodded. "That's true."

"Ever since he came into your lives?"

Another nod. Carla recalled the moment she had first met Andy. 

_It was fall, the sun was setting, leaves piled up on the floor and danced in the wind around her. She stood alone in front of the old house where she, Jamie and Sophie lived, having sold it to cut down on expenses. Everything had been resolved the past few months, and everyone had moved in to the smaller, less expensive apartment they now lived in. To her, this was her own private farewell to her old home._

_And then Andrew, in his six to seven years of age at the time, came walking down the sideline, dressed in tattered, worn-down clothes, all by himself._

_Her first instinct had been to ask: "Excuse me, little mister. Where are your parents?"_

_After the initial shock of being suddenly talked to by a stranger wore off, he had given her an emotionless look that unsettled her._

_Her unease would only grow when he replied so matter-of-factly:_

_"Don't have them."_

_The kid then excused himself and kept walking, past her and ahead, until he turned around a corner and disappeared from her sight..._

To say she had been taken aback would be an understatement. From the first time they had met, she had been _intrigued_ by this little boy walking around the world all on his own. 

Carla looked back at Mrs. Pendleton. "Like you wouldn't believe."

"Mmhm", the psychologist mused. "You know, they do say that our best virtues can also be our worst weaknesses. Someone with strong opinions can be thick-headed. Someone calm and patient may end up being submissive. And someone who values their own independence and autonomy..."

"May find themselves alienated from everyone else", Carla finished.

"Correct." Mrs. Pendleton sighed, looking down. "And we humans in general... have this pesky little thing called pride. When we get ourselves stuck into one way of thinking and behaving, not only do we default to it even when it's not appropriate to do so, but we also tend to reject anything that goes against it."

Carla grimaced. _Tell me about it..._

The senior woman looked back up, right into Carla's eyes. The middle-aged woman noticed the serene solemnity flashing in the elder's face. "There is no easy fix for your son, Mrs. Bennett. The first step to help him is to acknowledge that."

"I know." Carla frowned. Knowing it didn't make it easy to deal with, but it was all she could do now.

"Dealing with the illnesses of the mind takes time, love and effort - most of all that of the ill one. As he is now, he isn't very receptive to the idea of getting help, because he believes he doesn't deserve it. So it falls on _you_ -" She pointed at the matriarch for emphasis. "-to convince him to do so. That it is worth it. That _he_ is worth it." 

And then, just when Carla thought it impossible, Mrs. Pendleton' gaze became even more hardened. "Are you ready for the task?"

Carla's heart fluttered in her chest as the psychologist's question hung in the air. Part of her wanted to pull back, to run away from this, and _why did she have to go so far for someone who wasn't even her own flesh and blood?_

She resolutely smothered that _very selfish_ part of her and returned Mrs. Pendleton's gaze, pouring all the determination she could muster into her words.

"Yes! I'll do everything in my power. Andy can only see the worst of himself now" She paused. Talking about it hurt. " So I'll do what I can to-" By that point, she had started sobbing again. "-to help him see that he's _special_ , and _loved_ , and that he _deserves_ to be happy and at peace!"

Mrs. Pendleton gave her an approving smile. "You do that, dear. I'll do what I can to help."

And now Carla too smiled, pulling the elder woman into an embrace and mumbling an embarrassingly blubbery "thank you" and "I'm so glad we have you to help us." 

They stood like that for quite a while, and Mrs. Pendleton ended up going back to her office a little late after all.

........................................................

Aster took another deep breath. To think he'd take this long to calm down...

Clearly, he'd underestimated how _hard_ PTSD would kick him in the nethers, and Sophie had to have mercy on him and make him stop. In the end, he hadn't even been _able_ to tell her everything.

Really, how much more _pathetic_ could he get?

"Ta, sheila..." was all he could say.

Aster slowly extricated himself from Sophie's arms, until he had the teenager by the shoulders. The sun filtered more brightly through the enchanted ceiling, and the Pooka frowned as he noticed it. He had completely lost track of time, from the moment he had really gotten into his recount up until now, and he reckoned it should be pretty late night back in Burgess...

"Sophie...", he said in a concerned tone. "Aren't ya late for going back home?"

Sophie just shook her head. "It's okay. Jamie will understand if I tell him the truth... well, enough of the truth, anyway." 

The teenager sighed, frustrated. "God, I wish he still believed in you..."

Aster nodded. He too wished it, and not only for his own sake - not even mostly for _that_. Jamie had never been quite the same since... _Jack_. 

The Pooka shook his head. _Bad time to bring back bad memories, Aster..._

He had been keeping tabs on Sophie's older brother - still did, both directly and through Sophie - and while he did manage to overcome the grief and anguish of that time, and grow into a fine young man with great devotion to his family, he ended up losing his belief along the way, and grew more jaded and aloof as a result...

Sophie stood up from her seat at last, then took a few steps away from the bench... before turning around to face him again. "Thank you, Aster."

Huh?

The Pooka blinked at Sophie, wordlessly asking her what for.

"For telling me all of that", she said, then elaborated. "It seemed to be weighing down on you all this time, from what I could see, and I'm really glad you've managed to let at least some of it out."

Sophie paused for a while, shifting on her feet, before continuing. "And you know... I really think it will only do you good to open up like this, even if it's difficult..." 

Another brief pause. She looked around before looking at him again. "It doesn't have to be with me, either, if you don't want to... but if you do, I'm here to listen."

Aster' hearts overflowed with pride and gratitude for Sophie, and a wide, fond smile formed on his face. The girl was all understanding and concern with him, even if he was weak and coward and let her down. It made him feel silly for putting this off so much.

He got up from the bench himself, then walked to her and placed a paw on her shoulder. "Thanks, Soph. Ye're the best friend a bloke could ask for."

Corny? Maybe. But hopefully it conveyed his appreciation of her.

Sophie smiled right back at him. And for him, it reinforced the feeling that he had done right in trusting her. 

"But you really should be going home now, young lady", he added in a serious tone, though his own smile wasn't completely gone. "Or else Jamie's gonna have a fit. You don't want that, do ya?"

Sophie snorted. "No, I don't. You're right. I'm going."

"Let's go then. I'll see ya back home..." Aster gently took Sophie's hand, and together they started walking to the tunnel that would lead back to Burgess.

Maybe they both would turn out just fine after all.

He would gladly hold out hope.

.................................................

Andrew felt his whole body numb and tingling at the same time. _Somehow_. 

He was sitting on his hospital bed, and Mrs. Bennett had her arms wrapped around him from the bedside. When he'd first woken up back there, after the fiasco with the psychologist, and Mrs. Bennett had laid eyes on him, she just came and wrapped him in a tight hug, with no explanation whatsoever.

For a while now, she had been embracing him and whispering sweet nothings at him, and it was... totally uncalled for. He had been dumbstruck at first, but... even now, he didn't even make an effort to push her away and make it stop, no... instead he leaned into the embrace, because it just felt _so good_ \- and yet he couldn't bring himself to relax, because he just _knew_ he didn't _deserve it_!

_So pitiful it's almost adorable..._

He knew it. He really did. And even so, here was Mrs. Bennett showering him with affection.

Why?

"My little boy..."

She _had_ to be crazy. 

And still... Deep down, he wanted to believe. 

He hated what he was. _Why couldn't he be any different?_

"Of course you can."

Wait, what? 

Had he said it out loud?

Mrs. Bennett had her eyes fixed on his, and he found out he _couldn't look away_ , even if his own eyes felt like they were _burning_.

"Do you want to?"

The simple question hit him with the force of a truck.

Of _course_ he wanted to! He wanted to be _normal_ , and _useful_ , and _fit in_ , and stop _pushing everyone away_ , and...

He felt a hand on his head.

"You can."

Huh. He really was thinking out loud there, wasn't he?

"How?", he asked, voice loaded with grief and disillusionment. "I've never done anything like that before. Ever. How can I start changing now."

"Practice", was Mrs. Bennett's reply.

"Come again?"

"Andy...", she said, pulling back from him to place her hands on his shoulders. "When we try something new, it's never easy at first. _Especially_ when it's a new habit that goes entirely against the old ones we have ingrained into us." 

A pause. It stretched on for long enough that Andrew tensed up a little. 

"Like my temper, for example."

Oh.

Andrew snorted without mirth. He had been privy to Mrs. Bennett's bursts of anger before - in fact, the latest one had been the incentive for him to run away. But to be honest...

"I've had it coming", he mumbled. "I shouldn't have skipped Sunday mass."

Mrs. Bennett shook her head. "No, you shouldn't have. But it doesn't make it right to treat you the way I did." Another pause, punctuated by a deep sigh from the Bennett matriarch. "And I _especially_ shouldn't have used the fact that you're adopted against you..."

Andrew cringed at the memories of "You should be more grateful and follow the rules of the house that received you!" and other such words.

"...It wasn't right, but you know how my tongue gets the best of me when I get angry. And I want you to know that I'm sorry for that, and that you should _never_ take those ugly things to heart." She cupped his face, wiping his tears on that side. "Not from me, and not from anyone else."

_So warm..._

Andrew's tears ran down in rivulets by now, his sight was blurred and his mouth pressed into a tight line in a desperate attempt to stifle his sobs.

"I love you, Andrew. And I'm proud of you. Even of what little I know of you. And I'll be here to help you with whatever you need, no matter what."

Andrew didn't respond. He was paralyzed. _How could she?_ What was it that she saw in him?

"You're a good person, Andy", she went on, as if reading his mind. "Your heart is in the right place, even if you go about it the wrong way. All you have to do is learn from your mistakes and move on, dear. There's nothing to be ashamed of." 

His eyes widened. Now it was his turn to raise his hand and clutch the one Mrs. Bennett had on his face. "How...? How can you believe in me like that?", he whispered, for his voice wouldn't come out.

And though her eyes were filled with pain, his foster mother smiled. 

"That's what family is for. Supporting their loved ones and believing in them when no one else does."

Now that was too much for him. 

It was like a dam had just cracked inside him. He wound his arms around Mrs. Bennett's back, buried his face where it rested on her and let out all the sobs and tears, all the sadness he had been holding back. He stayed like that for what felt like _hours_.

Being surrounded by people _hurt_. And yet it was _all he'd ever wanted_. Even the thought of living on _hurt real bad_ , now that he'd tried to kill himself _twice_ \- even though stabbing himself in the neck with a kitchen knife had hurt more than he'd thought possible. That was just how messed up in the head he was.

Which reminded him...

He pulled back from the embrace, wiping away his tears and forcing himself to calm down. Running his hand over the healing stab wound on his neck, he swallowed the lump in his throat several times before he felt confident enough that his voice wouldn't break, then looked straight into his foster mother's eyes.

"Mrs. Bennett... there's something I wanted to tell you."

The older woman returned his gaze with a curious one of her own, catching his hands and squeezing them. "Go on?"

"It may be hard for you to hear, and..." He scrambled for a way to put his feelings into words. "...it may also be kind of silly because it doesn't really change, well... the fact that I tried to kill myself twice in a row..."

Just as expected, he could feel his caretaker tense up from the mention of his recent suicide attempts, both from the way she winced at him, and from the way her grip on his hands became tighter.

"Andrew..."

He cut her off. He had to say what he wanted to, before the courage he'd gathered to say it faded away.

"...but the truth is, I wasn't quite planning to."

Mrs. Bennett gasped.

"What do you mean?", she asked in a shrill tone, her face _livid_.

Andrew swallowed. "Well, the first time I had brought the knife from your kitchen for... 'self-defense', so to speak. Just in case someone came to try something funny with me. But then..."

Mrs. Bennett's anxiety was palpable now. "Then...?"

His reply was simple enough. 

"I guess I panicked." 

A thick silence ensued. Andrew pulled his arms to hug himself and looked down, a dry smile forming on his lips.

"I started thinking - of how I had really done it this time; how you would probably never accept me again; how I was going to always end up alone like that, and how I deserved it; and most of all, of how _sick and tired_ I was of all that - of myself - so why not end it right there and make sure no one else would have to put up with me ever again to go with it..."

"Andy..."

He ignored her call, clutching himself so hard his nails dug into his arms.

"...and the second time... God, that was even worse." He was raving now. He knew he was raving, but he wouldn't stop until he had said it all. "Because I just had to go and pull some messed up theatrics on everyone, because I was still _mad_ ; mad at you all for saving my life when you shouldn't have, but even more so mad at myself for making everyone suffer like this..."

"ANDREW!"

Right after this one more desperate call, he looked up at Mrs. Bennett again. Not quite out of shock, though - nor because she had grabbed hold of his shoulders and _shaken_ him. But rather because he was getting to his point.

"...and when you and Sophie cried and looked at me like that, I... those same thoughts and feelings came barreling in all over again, and I remembered I still had a pen with me... I just snapped all over again."

He took in a deep breath - and when did his breath become so ragged? His foster mother had been stunned into silence in front of him.

"So there you are... Looks like I really am officially insane."

With those words, a small smile found it's way into his face, even as he stared with wide, manic eyes right into Mrs. Bennett's.

"Yay, me!"

Mrs. Bennett, her gaze fixed on him, was crying again ( _How much longer would he keep doing this to her?_ ). He imagined it was only natural for a normal, sane person.

As for him... he could only smile.

He, his whole situation, his entire life - it was all so utterly, terrifyingly _crazy and hopeless_... a normal person would have been able to live on _just fine_ , but not he, no... he was all kinds of mad, and weak, and cowardly. And all he could do about it was... laugh.

And that's what he did. 

It started out as soft giggling, then grew progressively louder until he was _roaring with laughter_. Even after Mrs. Bennett had hugged him tightly.

And then, at some point, it had become a howl of sorrow. 

He yelled - so much his head felt fit to explode, he punched Mrs. Bennett's chest, he sobbed, he wailed, he trembled... he did it all.

Mrs. Bennett didn't let go of him the entire time. 

And then...

An agonizing eternity later, the rush of emotions winding down, he went from yelling to wailing until, eventually, he fell silent, as a _deep_ sense of peace seeped into him.

It was different from the hollowness he usually felt while asleep. It was... deeply comforting, in a way he'd never felt before. And he _definitely_ wasn't expecting it, but he wasn't about to complain. 

He let himself sink into this beautiful feeling as it _washed_ over him like cool water on a hot day... until he fell asleep. The last thing he remembered, strangely enough, was this deep peace of mind.

It was the first time Andrew remembered ever feeling that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catharsis... is not always easy.
> 
> For someone who is depressed, crying yourself to sleep can sometimes have a deep calming effect - especially when it involves opening up in ways you haven't ever before. At least it worked that way for me, sometimes. Yeah.
> 
> On another note, I do realize the Guardians, especially Jack, aren't getting the spotlight much just yet, but they will, as soon as I get done with this unexpectedly extended first act. It's still important to establish the characters for the story I'm trying to tell, and they're going to show up quite proeminently from there on - especially Jack - so just bear with it for a while (two more chapters), please?


	3. In Heaven and Earth

_It was cold, and dark. And he was scared._

_There was nothing but darkness surrounding him. Though he had never been scared before, he was now, even if the feeling was dulled._

_And then, he saw._

_Golden powder flew around, forming wild glowing streaks through the darkness all around him. Filling it with light and color and warmth. And then he noticed his heart, too, was filled with wonder._

_It was a novel feeling for him._

_Around and around the powder spun, forming shapes in the air. Manta rays, dolphins, several fishes of all shapes and sizes, all of them swam circles with him at the center, as if it was all a rehearsed dance meant for his eyes only..._

_It was beautiful._

..................................................

His eyes flew open.

After a few forceful blinks, they adjusted to the dim light of dawn peeking through the window, barely allowing him to make out his hospital room around him.

Slowly, the boy propped himself up into a seated position and looked around. Mrs. Bennett was fast asleep on a padded chair beside him, wrapped up on a duvet she had brought from home. 

He recalled... absolutely nothing, except for a vague feeling of wonder. No matter how much he tried to close his eyes and focus, he couldn't remember more than that.

Had that been... a _dream_?

................................................

"Welcome back home, Andy!"

Andrew looked around the small living room bashfully. He _was_ glad to be out of the hospital and back home, but at the same time it was _really_ awkward. Because, you know, _he had run away_. He couldn’t help but find it a wonder to be walking into that same apartment again.

Mrs. Bennett stopped by his side and closed the door behind them, her small bag in hand. "It's happier now with the whole family here", she mumbled, looking at him.

Sophie and Jamie filed into the room shortly after, almost as if on cue. Sophie walked fast ahead, kneeling in front of Andrew to pull him into one of her trademark bear hugs - though being mindful of his wound at least, wrapping her arms around his ribs instead of his neck... which still made it _physically uncomfortable_.

"Sophie...", he managed through the slight pain on his ribs. "Can't breathe..." Some wiggling and light punching on her back later, she released her hold on him, but moved to clutch his shoulders instead.

"And how are you feeling now?"

Andrew gave her a level look. “Better, I’d say, now that I’m not being crushed by a bear...”

Sophie shook her head. “Oh, Andy, I don’t mean that... I mean, how do you feel about yourself?”

Huh?

Sophie now eyed him with concern, and he felt his stomach drop. What kind of question that even was, after that whole deal in the hospital where he _flipped out_ and she, well... _stopped him_?

"I... Um..."

How was he supposed to answer that?

Mrs. Bennett looked put off, and ready to say something - hopefully to save him from this awkward situation he suddenly found himself in - but Jamie, who had stayed back leaning on the doorway to the kitchen, beat her to it. 

"You'd better be ready to catch up with all the homework you've missed, twerp”, he stated in a clear, yet nonchalant tone.

Oh, that _smartass_.

Andrew groaned at the annoying reminder, made worse by Jamie’s patronizing. Mrs. Bennett and Sophie just laughed at him, and his predicament, while Jamie smirked in satisfaction. Philistines, all of them!

Deep down, though, Andrew _was_ glad he had managed to dodge that bullet from earlier...

.................................................

Shortly after, Andrew had gone with Mom to her room, to help her unpack her bag - hastily; which Sophie didn’t blame him for. That left her alone with Jamie again.

The girl, having gotten up from the floor, walked up to her older brother. "Nice save."

Jamie turned to look at the doorway Andrew had left through, his cool expression unchanged. And yet, Sophie thought she saw... a glimmer of concern in his eyes?

"He may get on my nerves all the time... but you know what? Little siblings tend to do that.” He gave Sophie a pointed look, making her flush as she remembered her own tenure as the resident ‘annoying younger sibling’. 

Jamie sighed. “I don’t hate him, you know. Let alone want him depressed, and much less _dead_. You should be more careful."

Sophie nodded, then looked down. “Yeah. I guess I went out of line, asking him that so soon. It’s just that... I’m so worried with him, you know? When I begin to think... he was about to...”

Her train of thought was interrupted by a hand patting her head. She looked up, surprised, having just noticed Jamie standing right in front of her now.

“Not everything in life is the way we want it, Sophie”, he stated in a very serious tone. “We can’t change anyone. And we can’t force them to stay by our side either. All we can do is be there for them while we can.”

Sophie smiled at him, grateful for the advice. It also gave her a twinge of sadness, though, because he was recounting some advice their mother had given him long ago.

More specifically, when Jack disappeared from their lives and Jamie himself slipped into depression as a result.

Sophie’s face fell again. Due to how young she was at the time, the girl didn’t even remember much about Jack Frost on her own, nor was she able to be of much help when he left. 

As for Jamie... She looked at her older brother, who had his eyes closed now, as he leaned on the wall. He had _snapped_ back then. And when he came out, he wasn’t quite the same anymore. Not only did he grow more jaded and reserved, but he also forgot all about Jack and the Guardians. 

It was like a wedge had been driven between them. No matter how close they still were now, after Jamie managed to bounce back, nothing was the same as before. And there wasn’t a thing she could do about it...

Mom’s voice called from down the corridor. “Jamie, dear, could you give me a little help here?”

“Coming!”

In less than five seconds, he too was gone, leaving Sophie alone with her thoughts for a moment. The girl sighed loudly in resignation.

Not everything in life went the way they wanted, indeed.

................................................

"And how was your first day back at school?"

Andrew tensed up under Mrs. Bennett's gaze, knowing he should have expected the question as soon as he walked in. Sophie, who had walked him home from school, just snorted beside him.

"As expected, I guess", he mumbled, not looking directly at his foster mother. "Lots of homework to catch up with. _Thank God_ winter break starts next week; that will give me time. And the other kids..." He just groaned, not bothering to finish talking. 

Mrs. Bennett raised an eyebrow. "That bad?"

"Well, they swarmed me like I was some freak as soon as they heard 'I had a nasty accident with a kitchen knife', asking me to show it and all, so you judge." It had been the public version they had all agreed on - he, the Bennetts, his doctor and his psychologist - so that he wouldn't be exposed for, you know, having attempted suicide. It wasn’t completely false, either.

"As if I was some freak show to them...", he mumbled, more to himself than for anyone else to hear.

"Oh, Andy...", Sophie chimed in. "Yeah, sure, that was pretty tactless of them... But you knew that was going to happen.”

He couldn’t deny it. He knew, from the moment he refused to wear a scarf to cover it. But then, the scar was going to be a part of him for the rest of his life now. An unerasable mark of his weakness. It wasn’t like he could wear a scarf year-round, and everyone else would just have to get used to that part of him sooner or later, anyway!

Especially if he _was_ going to live after all.

Sophie continued: “And besides, I've told you already: maybe someone there _actually cares_.”

"Yeah, right..."

"I'm being serious here. You might even begin to make new friends who would understand you. Who you can open up to. Then you won't have to be so lonely anymore."

That... didn't sound too bad. But... 

"Now that sounds like a pipe dream to me."

Sophie smirked. "Slow and steady will get you there, little bro! Practice makes perfect, and all that!"

Mrs. Bennett sighed, then kept asking away. "So, Andy... no detentions today, I assume?" 

Andrew relaxed, grateful for the change of topic. "Nope."

He would follow Sophie’s advice, though. Honest. He had already decided by now, after everyone’s constant repetition of the same old advice of 'making friends he could trust on' over the months, that it had to have some truth to it. He wasn't _that dumb_.

It was just... much easier said than done.

............................................

_“I really think it will only do you good to open up like this...”_

Aster shifted around on his nest, the morning’ first sun rays filtering through the hole in the wall that served as window, though not as strongly as usual for the time. 

Perhaps it was cloudy topside, he thought. Just like his mind.

The Pooka had taken his charge’s words to heart. He had to admit that she was right, and that he had clearly let his own past fester inside his heart for way too long already, if he couldn’t bring it up without turning into a blubbering mess, shaming himself further in front of her. 

Now the thing was... how should he go about it?

Aster knew that, if he was going to talk to someone about it, it should be with North, Tooth or Sandy. His friends. Or at least the closest thing to having friends he had, besides Sophie herself...

 _”Fine! Just keep sulking over it for the rest of forever, then! I wash my hands of you!”_

The Pooka frowned. He didn’t want to remember Jack. Especially not now. However, the galah just wormed his way into his thoughts, much like he used to do into his life.

_”T’was never any of yer damn business to begin with, Frost!”_

Well, strewth. 

To be honest with himself, he was thinking of him now because maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be in this situation if listened to the larrikin back that one time. Or the handful of other times he’d brought it up.

A small voice in the back of his mind also told him that _maybe_ Jack wouldn’t have left them all if he did. Maybe he would still be their friend.

His friend.

He shook his head vigorously to push it away.

............................................

Andrew sat on the gym stairs, having been eliminated from the dodgeball game still playing out in front of him. He tended to be better at running and dodging than at throwing, so his usual role was to be a "bait", so to speak. But he had decided to try his hand at throwing this time, because hey, _practice makes perfect_ , right?

Of course, the ball he threw was easily caught... Oh, well.

_See? That’s what you get for trying something of your own accord!_

And there it was.

_It would have turned out alright if you just stuck to your usual role, but no..._

That dreaded voice, always whispering in the back of his mind, looking for an opportunity to dampen his spirits, kick him while he was down, and try to drive him mad.

Literally.

_Little Andy had to prove he was a big, strong boy who can do anything he puts his mind to!_

The boy frowned at his thighs, clutching them so hard the skin there reddened a bit. He tried to follow the advice he’d received from Mrs. Pendleton during one of his sessions, when he’d finally come around to telling her about that damned voice. _You’re wrong, you’re not my friend, and I must not believe in whatever brings me down_ , he chanted in his mind, trying to fend it off. _I’m better than that._

_Don’t make me laugh! You act up, you screw up, and you just end up like this. Every single time. So why don’t we save everyone the trouble and..._

That was quite enough. Andrew decided to occupy his mind with something, before he started getting _those_ ideas - and worse, feeling like going through with them. Again. 

So he turned to the dark-haired girl from where he sat, one of his classmates who sat one step above him. 

"Oi, Megan!" 

The girl’s head shot up in surprise to face him. Not one for sports, she was the first to get hit out of the game, leaving to sit by herself before Andrew was also eliminated. 

“I... You know I’ve missed some days of school right?” A nod from her prompted him to go on. “I need to get the past days’ notes written, so I...” He hesitated for a moment, the side his face contorting in awkward. “...was hoping you could lend me your notebook today?”

_Smooth. Real smooth._

She blinked at him once, then nodded, giving him a soft smile. "Of course. I'll get it for you when we're back."

"Thanks". Andrew couldn't help but smile a bit as well.

He noticed she was still looking at him, though. Her face grew serious, as if mulling over what to say.

“Hey, Andrew...”, she asked in a low, careful voice. “How’s your wound doing? Are you okay?”

Taken by surprise, Andrew took a few seconds to answer. 

“It’s... getting better.” Self-consciously, he reached up to his neck, running his fingers over the scar tissue.

And then he was taken by surprise again, because she smiled once more, wider than before. “I’m glad.” Her voice was soft, and Andrew felt his face flush in elation.

Maybe Sophie was right. Maybe they weren’t all stupid pricks...

"Hey!"

_And speaking of those, here comes the king._

An angry dark-haired boy walked up to the two of them, having dropped the dodgeball and left the game without warning, if his confused teammates looking at him were any indication.

"Where do you get off getting so chummy with my sister like that, creep?" Will all but fumed through the ears while looking at him. The kid was a stereotypical jock if he'd ever seen one - he was good at sports, _sucked_ at academics, had a bossy streak a mile wide and a _massive_ trigger temper, known for running his mouth - and sometimes his _fists_ \- on whatever had pissed him off in the first place, as his own face could testify.

Andrew _really_ wondered how on _Earth_ Will and Megan were siblings.

Meanwhile, he tried to not let his unease show, hiding it behind his best unimpressed face as he turned to look at him. Thankfully, that was one of the _few_ things he was good at. 

"I'm asking to borrow her notebook, if that's all right with you... _milord_." Hey, Will called him weirdo, so he had the right to respond in kind, hadn’t he?

"Watch your mouth, Bennett, unless you want me to _fix it_ for you... again."

The threat made Andrew tense up. Getting into another fist fight with Will was the last thing he wanted. Though he was more than capable of holding his own by now, Will just outclassed him on the physical front... but if he cowered before the other kid, he’d just give him room to harass him further down the line. Andrew knew how this worked by now...

“If you weren’t so incompetent at dodgeball, I’d have said you threw the match just to come hit on her!”

Andrew’s hands balled into fists. Will really knew how to get on his case sometimes.

_He could be right, you know._

And then that voice came back to torment him again, after having stayed duly silent since he started talking to Megan. It didn’t help that Will noticed his reaction and now looked at him with a smug smile. 

He was breathing hard again. He felt cornered between Will and his own inner demon, and he felt he was about to lose control...

When Megan jumped to her feet.

"Shut up, Will!"

He started, looking back at the girl, who he’d forgotten about. She had her pale face flushed red, and was now glaring daggers at her older brother, who had been struck speechless himself. Apparently, the other boy hadn’t expected the usually shy girl to jump to Andrew’s defense like that either...

Wait, did that mean he too had had the wrong idea about her?

"William Carter!"

Mr. Hawks' voice boomed across the gym, making the boy in question cringe. Andrew cringed as well. The tall, muscular professor's frown and stance both were just as stern and unyielding as his words. The dodgeball game had stopped in the court, and everyone was looking at them.

Wonderful. More attention. Just what he wanted.

Thankfully, Megan and Mr. Hawks’ combined scrutiny forced Will to retreat soon enough. He still launched Andrew a final scathing glare.

The brown-haired boy groaned. Will _always_ had to be a pain in the...

"I'm sorry, my brother can get out of line sometimes..."

Oh, right. Megan was still there with him. He could hear the game resuming on the court behind, so he stopped paying attention to look back at the girl. 

"I mean, where does he get off, calling you a weirdo and accusing you like that?", the dark-haired girl would say, though she now looked away from him. And then she’d move on to other points of contention, like: "I'm sick of being treated like a china doll by him, but he just thinks he can do as he pleases with me because he’s the older brother...“

Andrew just blinked at the girl, who was clearly on a roll. 

“Well, it’s about time he heard what for, and..." Megan trailed off, then looked back at him. Her face softened, and she looked flustered all of a sudden. "Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't be rambling about this..."

"No", Andrew interjected, shaking his head. "You know, it’s not just you who has to put up with Will. He is just bossy and arrogant, period. And he _does_ need to be put in his place. Bad." Megan chuckled at that. “And...” 

He paused briefly, looking for the words. The girl waited him out on it. 

"Thank you for that. It was amazing."

Megan blushed a bit. "You really think so?"

"I sure do." 

And then they were smiling at each other. 

Talking to Megan turned out rather nicely, in the end. Not only she was cute, and kind enough to help him with his late homework, but she could also hold her ground and speak for herself if she wanted to, as he just saw.

Who knew, she could end up being a good friend to him...

"BEEEEEEEEEEENNEEEEEEEEEEEEETT!!!"

If her jerk of a brother didn't mess everything up, that was...

.....................................................

"The lil' galah's doin' just fine, I gotta say."

Sophie nodded at the kit-sized Aster as he spoke to her from the top of her desk. Literature class was convenient enough to conceal a conversation with the Pooka, since he just had to stand by her book and she was able to pretend she was reading it. At her age range, her entire class had long ago stopped believing, as they found out - which, while sad, was pretty helpful in those kinds of situations.

This time, Aster had offered to keep an eye out on Andy after his discharge, reporting back to her regularly.

"He even managed to make a new friend. The sheila seems pretty nice... oh, time to turn the page again."

Sophie complied, turning the page of her book along with the rest of the class. After the collective sound of pages turning died down, she looked back at the Pooka and raised an eyebrow at him. A wordless, unequivocal inquiry about this new little bit of gossip. She was _excited_ to know more, forgetting entirely about the reading going on around her.

"Details”, she whispered back to Aster. A simple code, agreed between them long ago. The teenager found it amusing, as it gave those secret public conversations with Aster an extra air of, well, secrecy.

"Shorter than him, didn't seem very good at sports..." The Pooka kept his replies simple and direct as always. "Her older brother just so happens to be Will, one of those kids who seem to pick on Andy the most..." 

Sophie's eye twitched. Oh, not _Will_ again...

"...and the lil' drongo looked pretty _overprotective_ of his sister on top of that. He made a scene at yer little brother in the middle of P. E. class... twice."

Sophie grimaced this time. "Detention again, then?" If Will provoked him, Andy would almost surely take the bait...

Aster chuckled. "Nah, _our_ lil' drongo behaved this time. Though the other one _tried_ to provoke him" He chuckled again at the pre-teen's little sigh of relief. "He ended up going to the principal’s alone after the second time, but our sprog is out of the woods today.” 

Sophie smiled. Hearing that made her pleasantly surprised with Andy’s self-control, and happy for him. It meant that not only he was trying, but he also _could_ succeed if he wanted to. The more he realized that for himself, the more confidence he’d build.

The Pooka, too, smiled. “The lil’ girl even stood up for Andy and all... I do think she’ll make a nice friend to him." Then he took in a deep breath. "And I'd like to keep telling ya more, but it looks like it's yer turn now."

_Eh?_

"Miss Bennett?"

Sophie started at the call of her name. A wave of fluster went through her, and she could feel sweat forming on her back, when she noticed Mrs. Orwell and her classmates all had their eyes on her.

"Um..."

"Third paragraph", the Pooka before her helpfully provided, looking at the open book of the boy to her right. She was on the right page at least, thanks to him.

Involuntarily relaxing, and thanking God that she was the only one who could hear Aster right then, the girl stood up to read aloud to the class.

The rest of the "gossip" would have to wait for now.

..............................................

Andrew walked out the school’s gate with a spring in his step, his classmates walking off in different directions around him to play together in the snow or just laze around and chat while they waited for their parents to come get them. 

Will got detention, and he didn’t. He did feel sorry for Megan, who would have to wait with their father for him to come out now, but besides that, all was right in the world.

Sophie waited for him near the sidewalk. He saw her spot him, and wave her arm. 

“Someone’s looking chipper today, huh?”, she said as he approached her.

He shrugged, smiling. “What can I say? Day was good.”

Sophie smirked. “Oh, good. Now we just need to have you behave for two more days before the week ends.”

Andrew snorted. “Better not jinx me, then.” It made Sophie cackle, so points for him. Then they started to make their way back home.

As they walked together, he couldn’t help but notice... Sophie appeared strangely pleased with herself, especially when she looked at him.

“What?”, he finally asked. “Is there something on my face?”

“Well...” She trailed off, playfully drawing out the word. “You’re really looking happier than usual today. Did you make a new friend or something?”

Andrew gaped at his foster sister. “How did you know?”

“So you did!” Sophie’s face lit up even more, if that was even possible. “Oh, Andy, I’m so happy for you...” And then she started rambling on about how good that was, how it would brighten his life, and stuff like that... but Andrew was only half paying attention to her now. Something felt off about this whole thing. Sophie looked way too happy - even for her standards - before he’d even brought up the thing with Megan...

“So? What is she like?” The blonde had her full attention on him. Girls and their penchant for gossip, Andrew thought.

“Oh, she’s nice enough. She lent me her notebook so I can take the notes I missed, and...” Andrew trailed off. “Wait a minute...”

He whirled around to face her. “I never told you it was a she!”

Sophie blushed, looking flustered. Bullseye.

“So, Sophie...”, he drawled, crossing his arms. “Care to spill it out? Who told you?”

Strangely enough, Sophie’s face fell into a sad smile. “Busted, huh? Well... you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Her voice sounded forlorn, belying the excitement it had mere seconds ago.

He cocked his head. “Try me?” There was no way he’d not believe her, unless...

Sophie rolled her eyes, sighed, and then said simply: “Bunny.”

Yeah.

The Easter Bunny, is what she meant. Andrew was the one to roll his eyes this time.

“Okay, I get it. You don’t want to tell me...” It wasn’t the first time she came up with mythical figures as her imaginary friends to explain things she didn’t really want to explain. Really, did it _hurt_ to just say “I don’t wanna talk about it” or something?

Sophie just sighed again, and resumed walking. Andrew followed behind, deciding not to pry further. They had done this song and dance before, and it never ended well. Especially the first couple of times, when he asked her if she wasn’t too old to keep believing in that stuff...

The brown-haired boy couldn’t help but smell a rat, though, every time Sophie’s... unusual beliefs came up. The teenager always seemed to know more than she let on...

...................................................

“Oh, Aster...” Tooth flew around the table they were sitting by at her room to pick him up into a hug.

Aster tensed up for a second, but then got himself to relax a bit under Tooth’s embrace, holding her back. He felt warm, and the lingering ache in his hearts eased some.

Deciding to come to her first had been simple, somewhat. North was hella busy now, with Christmas around the corner. Sandy was busy around the clock, just like Tooth; and unlike her - or the rest of them - he had no helpers to speak of, doing his job all by himself. So, if he _had_ to be a bother, better to go to the one who would be bothered the least.

“I’m so sorry...”, Tooth whispered next to his ear. Bless her sweet heart. Aster had to admit, to himself at least, he felt a little bit envious of her capacity to stay nice, kind and cheerful despite her own emotional baggage.

“It’s okay, sheila. I’ve moved on. Life goes on, ya know.” He said it out loud to reassure himself as much as her, though his own voice was a bit shakier than he would have liked. Tooth just held him tighter. And he just obliged, leaning into her and closing his eyes, a single tear falling from them as he did so.

At least it was starting to become easier. Whenever the Pooka opened up to someone he trusted, that phantom weight in his chest became ever so lighter.

Aster smiled. Through the pain and grief that blossomed anew, flaring under his skin and numbing his heart, there was Toothiana, his dear friend, a beacon of love and understanding that lit up hope in his heart of hearts. 

It made him profoundly glad, and proud, to have taken the leap.

............................................................

Andrew and Mrs. Bennett washed dishes together. Well, _she_ washed them. All he did was dry them with a cloth and put them into the drawers they belonged in.

It had been a while now. Almost everything had been washed and put away. His foster mother picked at a stubborn crust of bacon stuck on a plate. He was standing by the drawer, having just put some clean cutlery in it. But more than that, he was trying to find the courage to ask something...

“Mrs. Bennett?”, he asked, at last.

“Mm?”

“Sophie’s always been, um...” He fiddled with his fingers. “Eccentric like that? Believing in fairytales and stuff?” 

He wanted to try and understand Sophie, at least a little, if possible. Loony as she could be, sometimes, she always cared for him a great deal, even going as far as stopping him when... well. He wished he could become a good friend to her, if possible.

Even if he wasn’t really a good person.

Mrs. Bennett froze for a moment, leading Andrew to fear that he’d just earned himself a scolding for calling Sophie eccentric - he really should have phrased it better, he thought. But the axe never fell. Instead, Mrs. Bennett turned to look at him from the kitchen sink, setting plate and sponge aside. 

“Well, you know Sophie is... a peculiar girl. Right?”

Andrew nodded. 

The middle-aged woman leaned on the balcony with the sink. “She has her own way of seeing the world, and of expressing herself. Always had, and probably always will. You’ve been seeing it for a while now...” 

Another nod from him. Mrs. Bennett continued: “It may be hard for people to accept, but it makes her who she is. If anything, it makes her more special in some ways. Sometimes she surprises me with how wise and caring she can be.” The woman smiled at the thought, eliciting a little smile of Andrew’s own.

“You seem pretty accepting of her, though”, he said softly. “You’re a good mother.”

“Oh, you’re so kind, dear...”, she replied contently. Instead of staying content, though, Mrs. Bennett’s expression dropped into a more pained one. “I wasn’t always this accepting, though.”

Andrew blinked at her from where he stood, their chore forgotten. After a moment of silence, he egged her on. “How so?”

She sighed. “Well, when she was a little girl I didn’t mind it too much. It was just stuff made up for kids, right? Santa, the stork, the tooth fairy... Jamie too used to be all about those things. The hidden mysteries of the world and all that.”

The boy blinked. “Jamie?” It was hard to imagine high-strung Jamie having that kind of interest, even as a kid. 

Mrs. Bennett nodded. 

Well... he sure wasn’t interested in that stuff now. Andrew gulped. “And what happened?”

A sad smile lifted the edges of the woman’s lips. “He fell into depression.”

Andrew let out a little gasp. 

“He started going out less and less, and even here at home he spent most of the time in his room. Every little thing seemed to get him angry or upset. All of a sudden he didn’t want anything to do with folklore anymore.”

_So Jamie had been the same as me!_

“When I first asked him about it, well... he blew me off. And I was mad. Mad at his disrespect. But more so mad at myself. For losing control as a parent. For seeing my son suffer and being unable to do anything about it.” The woman’s eyes were shining now, causing pity and shame to bubble inside Andrew’s chest. Pity, because he did feel bad for her. And shame, because he was also guilty of doing the very same.

Mrs. Bennett looked at the table across herself, as if unable to face him. “Sophie, too, was devastated. She tried to convince him to get out of bed. To go out again. To please keep believing in fairytales with her. Jamie wanted to hear none of that, but she wouldn’t drop it.” Her face scrunched. “Soon enough, I got even more mad, because all she was doing was rubbing salt in Jamie’s wound.”

Tears came rolling down Mrs. Bennett’s face at last, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. “ I really hurt her back then. She was just trying to cope in her own way, and cheer Jamie up as well... and I broke her heart real bad.”

Andrew looked around. He wasn’t sure what to say about all that, so he said nothing.

Finally, Mrs. Bennett wiped her tears, took a breath and looked back at him with a bittersweet smile on her lips. “I had to learn to accept what I can’t really understand the hard way, Andy. And I’ve made mistakes along the way that left marks on all of us for the rest of our lives.”

The boy grimaced, looking down. “I’m sorry... for all that.” It sounded like a vain platitude, but he felt like he had to try and say _something_.

Mrs. Bennett shook her head. “I’ve only got myself to blame for it. And I’m also telling you all this so you won’t make the same mistakes yourself.” A tired sigh escaped her lips. “So do try not to, okay? Sophie may not look it, but she’s been hurt enough already.”

Andrew gulped, and nodded, though with little confidence in himself. It seemed enough to elicit a pleased smile from Mrs. Bennett, though. “Thank you for listening to this old woman’s lamenting.” 

He nodded again. He could only pray he wouldn’t disappoint her.

To think he just wanted to know more about Sophie... he ended up learning way more than he’d signed up for, didn’t he?

“...And who knows?” 

Andrew’s attention was drawn right back to his foster mother once again. “What?”

“Just because we don’t believe in something, it doesn’t mean it’s not real, right? At least in some way...” Mrs. Bennett shrugged. “Whatever is behind Sophie believing in Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy to this day, there must be something true to it.”

The woman’s mouth quirked up again as she looked up at the ceiling - or perhaps through it. “And whatever it is, it did help her grow into the fine young girl she is today.”

Andrew blinked at her. He understood her point, sort of, but he was clueless as to what to make of it.

“Guess so”, he said simply.

He did understand one thing, though. Even if Mrs. Bennett didn’t believe in the same things as Sophie, she certainly believed _in_ her daughter.

The thought of it warmed Andrew’s heart.

...............................................................

“I think that’s a nice start, Aster!” Sophie smiled at him, prompting a smile of his own... but her expression fell into a more concerned one soon after. “But you aren’t pushing yourself to do it, right?”

Aster walked them through the snow-covered slope leading to the back of Sophie’s apartment complex, thankful for the warm clothes protecting him from the cold morning. 

The Pooka shook his head. “A wee bit, I guess... But it’s better than keepin’ it all bottled up, ya know? The others are my friends too. I should trust them, and... it was way past time I talked to them about it already.”

He had talked to Tooth first, and then to Sandy - both had been understanding in their own ways, though Sandy also jabbed him over his pride in keeping it all to himself, which he could have done without. Even if he knew the sandman was right.

Sophie seemed to smile in approval. “And North? Did you tell him?”

Aster gulped. “After Christmas, sheila. Old Santa’s pretty busy, better not to put more weight on his shoulders just now, yeah?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust North. He did. Even if the guy could be obvious and tactless in certain aspects, Aster trusted him to understand and be respectful on this matter. The old man suffered his losses and held his grievances, just like the rest of them.

It was just... _difficult_ , to open up like this. Even if it became a little bit easier every time, it still pained him a lot to pour his heart out the way he’d been doing the last few days.

The girl stopped, and so did Aster. They were standing mere meters away from her apartment complex now. She looked down, seeming upset. “Oh, Aster... I get that now isn’t the best time to talk to North, but... you’re not a _weight_.” The Pooka blinked at Sophie, who was now looking back at him. Her eyes seemed to gleam with concern.

Wasn’t he, though? If he was broken so _bad_ , he had to turn his friends into his personal therapists in order to not snap completely?

Unaware of his inner turmoil, the girl walked up to him and placed a hand on his chest. His eyes widened a bit at the gesture, his skin tingling where she touched him even through both fur and fabric. “You’re not a weight, Aster!”, she repeated with a hard gaze into his own eyes. “You _have_ a lot of weight on your heart. Heck, if anything you’re all the more amazing for bearing it on your own for so long...”

She couldn’t hear the little gasp he drew. _He_ almost couldn’t hear it himself, for that matter.

“But you don’t have to bear it all alone anymore. We’re here for you, okay?”

Aster felt a little lightheaded, mirth bubbling up within his hearts. He didn’t think that highly of himself. Haven’t had for longer than he cared to remember. But Sophie _did_ think that highly of him. Even after he failed her.

And that meant the world to him.

He felt a content smile grace his lips as he reached up and grasped her hand with his larger paw. “Thanks a lot, Soph. That... really means a lot to me!”

Corny as he sounded, it was true. The girl smiled back at him, and all was well in the world...

Until he sensed something. 

He jerked his head up to look at the apartment complex in front of them, trying to discern the source of this feeling. A faint, but unyielding magical power beckoned him, different from everything he’d ever felt.

Sophie noticed. “Aster? What’s wrong?”

Aster stared agape in the direction of Sophie’s apartment. He thought he had caught some movement there, but whatever it was, it disappeared behind the window frame before he could identify it. His brows furrowed slightly.

“This can only mean one thing...”

....................................................

_“Just because we don’t believe in something, it doesn’t mean it’s not real, right? At least in some way...”_

Andrew mulled over Mrs. Bennett’s words, arms resting on the windowsill, looking over the woods behind the Bennetts’ apartment complex. He was taking a break from copying notes from Megan’s notebook, which now rested open on top of his desk, beside his own.

The best times of day, for him, were the early dawn and the late afternoon, when the sun wasn’t too harsh - it made the days way too hot around summer, and hurt his eyes when reflected on snow at winter - and the nature sprawling before him also helped calm him immensely, giving him plenty of peace of mind to think.

Sophie... of all people he ever met, she was the most different one. She was kind, and patient - he was about the best person to attest to _that_. Sometimes she even showed wisdom beyond her years, too... and even when she didn’t, she showed a great capacity for understanding, or even just accepting. And yet, she believed vehemently in fairy tales and other things most people thought of as mere myths... almost as if she hadn’t grown up in that regard.

But maybe that way of seeing it was wrong. As Mrs. Bennett had put it, whatever it was, those beliefs of hers _had_ to have some truth to them. Something real and pure that shaped Sophie into the wonderful girl she was today. Because Sophie _was_ a wonderful, special girl. She really was.

He thought back to her capacity for understanding once again - both those who shunned her for her “eccentricity”, and those who accepted her but didn’t seem to understand her... and even him. _Especially him_. 

Maybe... he could try and follow her example?

At that moment, he saw Sophie come up the slope near their apartment complex, as if summoned by his thoughts. 

He blinked in surprise, then leaned closer to the window to get a better view. She walked a few steps, and then stopped, turning sideways and speaking as if there was someone there with her.

But he saw no one else there.

A chill crept down Andrew’s spine. Just _what_ was up with that girl, he couldn’t begin to understand...

Or could he?

A different chill crept into his heart this time. He wanted to better understand Sophie, who was always there for him, and tried her best for him. Even when _he_ had been incapable of doing the same for _himself_.

Couldn’t he at least _try_ to trust Sophie on this?

An unnamed anxiety made his heart pick up a bit, and he looked back at the window, where his foster sister still talked to her “imaginary friend”. What if he went and tried to believe in Sophie, no questions asked, like she did for him? Would he be able to change things between them for the better?

He wanted to. So much.

He had to try.

He closed his eyes. “I believe...” 

He wanted to bridge the gap between him and Sophie. To reach out to her. 

“I believe in Sophie... I believe in what she believes...”

Hell, maybe he really was wrong and all those mythological figures Sophie spoke of actually existed. If they did, he wanted to find out for himself. To see what Sophie saw.

Maybe then he would find what was missing inside his heart too.

He tried to recall the stories he’d been told, by Sophie and otherwise - Santa, who brought gifts to nice kids and coal to the naughty ones; the Tooth Fairy, who collected children’s fallen teeth and kept their memories stored in them... 

“I believe, I believe, I believe...”

And the Easter Bunny, who Sophie claimed to be best friends with. It could even be him talking back to her right now, and he just couldn’t see it before.

“I believe!”

But what about _now_?

His heart raced now with anxiety. Or was it euphoria? He didn’t know anymore.

He opened his eyes... Slowly, very slowly, positively afraid of what he might see... or fail to see.

And when he looked back down at Sophie, a tall, gray figure clad in green stood beside her.

“Whoa!”

When he jumped back in surprise, his knees buckled, and he yelped in shock as he fell on his butt.

“Ow...” 

He massaged his rear with one hand, while processing what had happened in the last few seconds.

The figure standing beside Sophie... Was it...? 

Did he...?

Ignoring his still sore posterior, he scrambled back to his feet and sprinted to the door, heart racing a mile a minute.

He had to find out.

...................................................

“Aster”, Sophie called beside him. “You’re worrying me. What’s going on?”

Aster blinked, remembering the poor girl he’d left hanging. “Oh. Um... it’s nothing.”

“What do you mean, Aster? What’s happening?”, the girl asked, her tone not quite level. “All of a sudden you just look at my apartment complex as if there’s something lurking there, and you expect me to believe it’s nothing?”

Aster held out both front paws at her, to placate her concerns. “It’s nothing to worry about. Honest. In fact, if it is what I think it is...” The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile as he looked back to the apartment complex. “We might be in for a neat little surprise.”

The new presence moved inside the building, and then down, as if its owner was coming down to meet them. Aster followed it with his gaze until he was facing the complex’s back door. In Aster’s mind, he didn’t know how it happened, but there was no mistaking it.

It was a new believer.

Sophie was about to interrogate Aster further, when the back door opened. Sophie looked that way, and reflexively took a step back, and Aster’s smile too momentarily dropped in shock, when they saw a panting Andrew Bennett come to meet them.

The pair gaped at the boy, and he at them. Sure, the presence Aster felt came from the direction of his and Sophie’s apartment, but Andrew was the absolute _last_ person the Pooka expected to become a believer. Even _Jamie_ believing again seemed more likely to him.

“You...”, the boy breathed out, having clearly not caught his breath quite yet. “You’re the Easter Bunny, right?” Sophie gasped beside him, covering her mouth with her hands, looking from Andy to Aster and back.

Well. That only made the occasion even more joyous, didn’t it? So the Pooka smiled even brighter, giving a small bow at his new believer.

“That I am, lil’ mate. E. Aster Bunnymund, at your service.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to end the prologue, whew! I swear I try to cut down on the text, but it always ends up like this... OTL
> 
> Aster and Andrew finally meet face to face, yay! As you can see (and know from the movie), belief is a huge deal in the ROTGverse, so I’m trying to conciliate the importance of beliefs for spirits and its importance for mortals, while trying to NOT make it absolutely deterministic for the characters’ state of mind and, well... character. 
> 
> I’m also trying to give the Bennetts some characters of their own, as well. Sophie as the kind, smart and optimistic but slightly misunderstood and perhaps a little eccentric girl; Jamie as the cool guy with a troubled past, a somewhat jaded disposition and a bit of a mean streak, but also a lot of wisdom and a caring heart beneath it (confession time: my main inspiration for his character is basically Touya Kinomoto, Sakura’s older brother from Card Captors Sakura), and Mrs. Bennett, the loving but somewhat weary mother who sometimes loses control of her temper and can say, and even do, things she might regret later because of it... something a few people out there might be able to relate to.
> 
> Feedback is greatly appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The path to growing up always has its ups and downs...

_Andrew was astounded, even as he ambled toward Sophie and her not-so-imaginary friend, the Easter Bunny. The_ real _Easter Bunny. He had no reason to doubt that anymore. Not when he was right there in front of his eyes._

 __Real _, just like Sophie had said._

_And now he could see it for himself!_

_In complete silence, as if it was all a dream he’d wake from if he made a wrong move, Andrew stopped in front of the Easter Bunny - E. Aster Bunnymund, as he had introduced himself - and reached out to one of his hands - or should he call them paws?_

_The tall rabbit, who had been calmly observing the boy’s actions, let his ears droop and moved the... hand (he’d settle for that for now; “paw” just sounded dehumanizing to him) he had been trying to reach, and made contact._

_“Yep. I’m as real as they come.” His tone was soft and his smile was ever gentle._

_And then, every last trace of doubt vanished from Andrew’s mind, replaced with the most pure amazement._

..............................................................

“Woooooooow... So, everything here is your house?”

Andrew Bennett, Sophie’s adopted little brother and, by irony of fate, his newest believer, seemed to have dropped all of his cautious demeanor by the time they had gotten back to his Warren. Now the ankle-biter was acting like any normal child his age would when seeing the vast underground prairie that was his living place - it held a silent, contained kind of beauty at night as opposed to the colorful vibrancy it showed when under the bright light of the sun.

The kid ran ahead of him and Sophie to look around, marveling at every plant, flower and outcropping in his field of vision. Aster couldn’t help either the hint of pride for the due admiration his dear home was receiving, nor the endearment he felt seeing the kid’s antics.

The Pooka snorted, walking until he was a couple steps away from the boy, Sophie following beside him with a fond smile of her own. “That’s right. All of this is mine, and I take care of all of it, with much pride!”

Andrew turned to look at him from where he stood, beaming. “This is amazing, Mr. Bunnymund!”

Aster’s smile grew a little wider. “Thanks a lot, lil’ mate. And please, just call me Bunny.” Then he and Sophie walked over to the excited sprog. 

“Shall we move on, then?”

....................................................................

The Easter Bunny, Andrew decided, was _nothing_ like he’d ever imagined.

Not that he’d ever thought he’d meet the Easter Bunny - no, E. Aster Bunnymund - in person before, but still. Bunny, as he’d asked to be called, had left them sitting by a table lit by a large oil lamp overhead in front of what seemed to be his house, where he went inside to “get rid of that heavy winter clothing”. 

He soon returned with a cup and a tray of sliced fruit in hand... and a completely unexpected eyeful of naked rabbit-man to go with it.

“W-what the hell? Bunny!” The boy’s face went red, and he had to look away. 

Bunny just blinked in bemusement. Sophie also looked confused for a moment, though her countenance soon changed to one of realization, and she chuckled, amused. “Oh, Andy... that’s how Bunny goes around. He was just dressed for the cold.”

Bunny, too, seemed to realize what was happening, and rubbed the back of his head, giving him an awkward smile. “Heh. Sorry about that, lil’ mate. Should’a known this would happen, since you first saw me dressed and all...” He made no moves to cover himself or leave, though. 

Sophie, her head propped up with her arms on the table, seemed completely at ease with the scene unfolding before her. “It’s okay, though. His fur covers him plenty already.”

That much was true, he had to admit. Andrew still couldn’t bring himself to look at the nude rabbit, though.

“Come on, Andy, don’t be rude!”, Sophie whispered, tapping the boy’s shoulder. 

Andrew sighed, and slowly turned his head around until he was looking Bunny on the eye again. When he did, he saw the rabbit-man had his arms crossed - which led to him noticing the strange, yet aesthetically pleasing tattoo-like markings on his fur - and looked at him with the most pure innocence, without a trace of shame at his own undressed state to be seen in his face, but not a sign of any offense taken from the boy’s consternation either. 

No, if anything, the Easter Bunny looked _perfectly at ease_.

Well, then. Maybe he really was the only one seeing too much into it after all.

Trying his best to put the issue aside, the boy shot a question at Bunny to change the topic: “So, if you, the Easter Bunny, are real... does it mean the others are too?” He held up his fingers. “Santa? The stork? The Tooth Fairy? The Groundhog?”

Bunny’s nose twitched, and his smile gained a snarky edge. “Santa and the Tooth Fairy are good mates, and the stork is a nice bloke too, but you won’t see me wantin’ anything to do with the Groundhog on yer nellie.”

Even as Andrew raised an eyebrow at his new-friend-to-be for the peculiar choice of words, Sophie nodded her approval at him for dropping the issue with Bunny’s nudity... that was arguably all in his head. 

“That’s more like it!”

After a succinct explanation about Strine - Australian slang - helpfully provided by Sophie, the three of them had an amicable chat. 

Well, actually it was more about the other two filling him in with basic knowledge about Bunny’s world. Not only were he, Santa, the Tooth Fairy and the Sandman real, but they also formed some sort of fellowship called “Guardians of Childhood”, sworn to protect and foster children, everything they stood for and everything that was dear to them - their wonder, their memories, their hopes and dreams, and most of all, their innocence.

“You see, Andrew... Each one of us Guardians represent a virtue.” Bunny sipped an unknown drink from a ceramic cup - did he manufacture it himself? He sure seemed the type to. “I am the Guardian of Hope and Life. Easter is meant to bring the hope for new beginnings to children all around the world every year. And Spring itself, which is also my domain, is a representation of those new beginnings - not just for humans, but for all living beings.”

“Uh-huh...” Andrew hung on to every word coming out of the Bunny’s mouth, even as he munched on a slice of apple from the tray the rabbit had brought them. He’d never stopped before to think about what a season, or Easter for that matter, _really meant_. “That’s some big responsibility you have, eh, Bunny?”

A satisfied smirk graced the rabbit’s muzzle. “That it is, lil’ mate.”

They talked some more, about the other Guardians’ roles - the Tooth Fairy, for one, preserved children’s memories inside their collected teeth; who’d have thought? - and then about other spirits beside the Guardians - the Greek gods, nymphs, dryads, yeti (who worked for Santa, no less) and other such folkloric figures. It blew Andrew’s mind, to hear about this whole different world that existed separately from the world he knew, yet was an essential part of it at the same time. 

And right under his nose, too...

Eventually, Bunny called it a day around midnight at local time - somewhere in the middle of Australia, which Andrew thought he _should_ have known, considering - and also mentioned offhand that it meant it was almost noon back at their home in Pennsylvania... 

Wait, did that mean they just _travelled halfway across the world like that?_

“We did”, Sophie chirped in response, leading him to realize he had said it out loud. “Don’t worry, I was just as shocked as you when I first found out myself.”

Andrew just gaped, looking from amused smirking face to amused sheepish muzzle and back.

A couple minutes later, they were back at the back of their apartment complex - _having traveled halfway across the world; again_. Bunny gave them a quick “See ya later” and left, probably to get himself some well-deserved rest.

A few seconds after that, Andrew noticed he was still staring at the spot Bunny had disappeared from.

“Whoa...”

“I know, right?” Sophie’s face was pure contained joy. “Come on, Mom should have lunch ready anytime now.”

And then she simply turned around and made her way back home. Looking for all the world like they hadn’t just _visited the Easter Bunny on the other side of the freaking globe!_

_So that’s the secret Sophie was bearing all this time..._

Andrew followed in silence, thoughts still racing in his mind, though he also felt a strange calm. Now he understood why Sophie was so vehement about this whole belief thing. Anyone would be, if only they knew... if only everyone could see it was so... _real._

As real as the sun above and the snow below.

Looking at Sophie saunter in front of him, he smiled, his chest filled with warmth. Not only was he succeeding in reaching out to Sophie and understanding her better, but he also unveiled a great secret of the world in the process - one that, he realized, not everyone out there was able to understand, much less privy to, just as _he_ had not been only earlier that morning - and even met someone who belonged to that secret side of the world. 

In a single morning, his knowledge of the world had been turned upside down. And he couldn’t help but feel _privileged_ about all that. 

And even more so, for once, he had a reason to be truly, genuinely proud of himself, for overcoming the misconceptions he had and reaching those precious truths...

It was then that he wondered when would be the next time he’d meet Bunny again.

..................................................................

Andrew was a nice kid all around, Aster had decided while working on the egglet fields in preparation for the upcoming Easter. 

The lil’ larrikin had come along with Sophie for one more visit after the first time he met the Pooka. He had kept to himself, mostly following Sophie’s lead, but he still did ask a few questions of his own. Particularly where did he come from. 

His shocked face when he told the boy he was, in fact, a Pooka, an alien from another planet and older than the very planet they lived in, was completely worth it...

Aster placed the shovel into the Earth and stood up to stretch, then looked over at the field he’d been working on to assess his own work so far. He had managed to plow and harrow a whole field today, leaving only one more to go after he seeded that one. Good on him, he thought, as the Easter preparations season proper was fast approaching. 

Nodding in satisfaction, he walked up to a grassy hill where he laid down, deciding he’d rest a bit before he went about planting the seeds. The sunlight filtering through the rock ceiling had taken on a slightly red hue, indicating night would fall in just a couple of hours...

Naturally, he had told the boy just the nice parts of the story. He’d even said his people had given him a mission to come to Earth and help foster new life in it, way back at the beginning - which, while not untrue, left out the tragic circumstances behind the whole incident. 

Aster huffed at himself. No way he’d ever tell the boy those things - it just wasn’t right to drop that burden on a little boy who had his own issues to deal with... the kind that broke Aster’s heart, to imagine a child having to deal with them.

No, best to keep it to himself. He had already burdened too many people as it was...

A sudden magical presence pulled the Pooka back from his thoughts. He immediately recognized the magical pattern of Sophie’s “knock” that he’d taught her, and felt the Warren automatically give access in response. Eyes and ears perking up, Aster sat up and waited, feeling the fur on his back stand on end.

Something was off about the whole thing. 

One: Sophie wasn’t one to drop by unannounced. They usually appointed a date and time for her to come over for a visit around the end of the previous one, or when Aster himself dropped by her house or school to check on her.

Two: the visitor’s magical presence, he noticed as they came closer into the Warren, was definitely a mortal’s, but didn’t feel like his favorite ankle-biter’s at all. Instead, it felt like something he had first felt a mere week prior. A bright but weak presence, like a candle flame that could be snuffed out by the slightest breeze.

Aster forced himself to _keep calm_ despite the concern gnawing at the back of his mind and deal with the issue in a civilized manner. Regardless of whatever had happened that led Andrew Bennett to come to the Warren all on his own, though, Aster knew that upsetting the poor boy for no reason wouldn’t help the matter - or said boy’s morale. 

Aster used his magical connections to the terrain and to the sentinels in the Warren to direct the ankle-biter to where he was, since he wasn’t at his personal quarters this time. He felt the boy stop, then move on as he realized he was being guided, and soon enough - though the minutes up until then seemed to last a whole hour to the worried Pooka - Andrew was walking up the hill where he now sat, and stop just a couple steps away from him. 

“Hey, Bunny!”, he said meekly, waving one hand at him.

Aster gulped, but forced his ears to drop and relax, hoping his voice wouldn’t come out broken. “Hey, lil’ mate! Ye’re on yer own today?”

Unnerving as the situation was, he would be _hospitable_ to the boy if it _killed him_. He would _not_ launch into a tirade to try and wiggle out whether Sophie was _okay_ , or whether the lil’ larrikin in front of him had run away from home _again_...

No! Bad Aster! No freaking poor Andrew out!

“Yeah. Sophie has volunteer work this morning. Distributing coats, scarves and such to the homeless and all...”

Oh. 

Aster let out a breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding - and hoped Andrew wouldn’t notice either. The volunteer work. Right. That was _today_? He had forgotten, it seemed...

“And I thought...” Andrew fiddled with his fingers and looked away from him, appearing rather self-conscious. “I would take the chance to visit you on my own.”

Aster blinked at him.

“I mean, I-I like Sophie and all, and... and I like coming here with her, too”, the boy blurted out all at once, before he caught himself, took a deep breath and continued: “But I thought... actually I had been thinking for the past few days...”

 _Out with it already_ , Aster wanted to say - he’d never had much patience for people beating around the bush on him. He wisely kept his mouth shut and waited the boy out with the most neutral expression he could muster, though, reminding himself that pressuring the boy would _not_ help him state his business faster - on the contrary, it would likely embarrass him too much to continue talking.

“Well, the thing is...” Andrew said after what felt like an _eternity_. “I thought that if I only ever came to visit you from under Sophie’s skirt, um... I’d never _really_ become your friend...” 

The boy gulped, and then looked him in the eye, smiling awkwardly. “And... I know I’m not very good at that, but it would be a real waste if I didn’t even try... wouldn’t it?”

Aster could only stare back at him. At least he managed to keep his jaw from dropping, though.

“...so I asked Sophie to teach me how to reach you... so I could come here and talk to you on my own”, the ankle-biter finished, fiddling with his hands even as he held the Pooka’s gaze. 

The boy wanted to reach out to him. As a _friend_. 

There Aster was, thinking the boy would end up as little more than yet another child for Aster to look out for and depend on him... And there the lil’ galah was, trying to do them both one better. His resolve looked for all the world like would shatter if Aster so much as looked at him funny, but hell if it wasn’t _there_! The Pooka’s hearts picked up a bit as a surge of pure pride for the boy erupted in him...

“I’m sorry”, he said, looking down and stepping back, and the Pooka noticed he had been pursing his lips - which might just have been what Andrew had interpreted as bemusement on his part. “I must really be freaking you out...”

Uh-oh! That didn’t sound right at all. The kid’s resolve was dwindling right in front of him, just as Aster had feared.

“Not at all”, the Pooka blurted out, waving his paws, to cut the boy’s bout of self-depreciation short. “I just... uh...” And then Aster noticed he was failing to find the words to keep encouraging him... and that he might have been a _tad_ too forceful in his call, because now Andrew was giving him more attention than he actually knew what to do with...

Strewth. What exactly was he supposed to say now? Andrew was looking at him now, unease plastered over his poor little face, waiting for an answer the Pooka did not yet have. It was pathetic... Aster was supposed to be taking this whole situation in stride and encourage the kid on, like a good reliable Guardian... and instead he was making things even more awkward between them.

After a way too long pause, Aster sighed in defeat, letting his shoulders drop. No cool words of inspiration would come to mind. There was no acting cool about this for him. All there was left for him was... honesty. 

So that would have to do.

“Look, kiddo...” The Pooka grabbed the ruff of his chest. “I’m not very good at that either... Ya know, that whole being friends thing...” 

And then it came to Aster. It sounded so simple in his mind, and yet it somehow felt so... natural... so _right_...

He flashed a small smile at the boy. “So how about we... try to figure it out together?”

The ankle-biter looked up, amber eyes widened in surprise. Aster could tell the boy didn’t expect his answer. To be fair, the Pooka didn’t expect that from himself either. 

“Really?”

But there he was, attempting a huge leap of faith, to try and bridge the gap between himself and someone else. Almost ironic how, despite being a Pooka, he wasn’t so good at _those_ kinds of leaps...

Nonetheless, Aster smiled at the boy. “Really.” 

Then he looked over at the direction of the fields he’d been working on earlier, and then back at Andrew. “Oi... I was planting the egglets for next year’s Easter. Wanna take a look?”

The ankle-biter’s eyes widened in wonder. “Can I?”

Aster’s smile grew larger. Seeing children’s faces alight with wonder, hope and joy never failed to warm his hearts, and knowing he had caused it topped the feeling with some sweet due pride on himself. 

It was not to last, though. As he walked alongside an excited Andrew Bennett, he felt a sharp twinge of pain in his chest and his mind slowly fill with nasty thoughts. 

_How could you force yourself on a kid like that?_

_Blabbing on about your issues again..._

_He’s the one supposed to rely on you, you big doofus!_

Andrew walked on, taking on the Warren’s surroundings like he always did, as if he could never see enough of it, and thankfully appearing none the wiser to Aster’s inner turmoil.

_Seriously, how much more pathetic can ya get?_

_When are ye going to get yer shite together and stop being such a burden on everyone’s arses..._

Aster’s breath had become just a touch more labored by then, and he was barely aware of his surroundings anymore. And then...

 _”Bunny...”_ Sophie’s words rang clear through the haze of self-loathing. 

_”You’re not a weight!”_

His ego was still going on about how much he was a failure at everything he was supposed to be - a dependable Guardian, a good friend, and more. It took Aster no small mental effort to force it all away, before the quicksand of self-doubt swallowed him up once more, and try to hang on to Sophie’s words like the lifeline they were to his damaged soul.

He pulled out the memories of Tooth and Sandy as well. Listening to him. Helping him cope. _Accepting him_ with all of his problems. 

He was _not_ a weight. And he was _not_ supposed to be some kind of paragon either.

He was his own self. With his own issues that he _really_ shouldn’t have kept bottled for so long. And _hell_ , at the end of the day, what good was him acting like he had none of the aforementioned issues actually doing to him - or the ones he cared about - anyway? 

So far, he had let Sophie down, mostly alienated himself from his fellow Guardians, who were his companions for the longest time since the Golden Age, and Jack... 

_”I’LL FEEL BETTER WITHOUT YOU PESTERING ME, FROSTBITE, SO JUST RACK! OFF!”_

No. Acting the unflappable Guardian too much had cost him more than enough already. 

He’d try to do different now. Difficult though it may be. 

And besides, it wasn’t like he was actually forcing any of his issues down on Andrew’s shoulders just yet. Right?

_Yeah, right. Like you can keep them away from him if you open up to him that much. Stop being naive, will ya?_

_Ya have to be strong and dependable fer him, fer everyone..._

The Pooka shook the thoughts away. Remember, Aster, no actual good came out of doing _that_. About time he accepted he had limits...

“Bunny?”

Aster’s ears perked up. He blinked, and then looked down at little Andrew’s eyes. They had arrived at the egglet fields, the Pooka having been too distracted warring against himself to take note of that until now. 

Andrew cocked his head sideways at him. “Are you okay? You seemed... lost in thought.” That was rather on point, Aster thought, because that was exactly what had happened. 

The Pooka shook his head. “Guess I was... don’t worry about it, though.”

“I... see...” Andrew’s tone, coupled with the way his eyes lingered on the Guardian a couple seconds too long, told Aster the kid hadn’t really bought it. 

Still, the boy chose to drop it anyway. “So”, he said, looking over at the fields. “These fields... the Easter eggs actually grow from them? Or it’s just chocolate that you mold into eggs later? Chocolate is made from some plant, right? Cocoa, I think it was called?”

Aster was grateful for the change of subject. Andrew was nowhere near ready to have such an emotional baggage dumped on him, and the Pooka would rather spare the ankle-biter the trauma...

_Ye’re just afraid of him seeing right through you._

_”Rack off”_ , was Aster’s curt reply to that cruel voice, always ready to torment him... the voice of his own self-hatred.

........................................................

The rest of the day had transpired in a most pleasant companionship between the Guardian and the human child. More pleasant than Aster expected it could have been, in fact. 

Aster proceeded to answer the boy’s questions, explaining a little bit about cocoa beans, and how his egglet plants had nothing to do with those - rather, they would grow from the plants like a fruit, then fall off when they’ve grown their legs and start walking on their own...

“Wait”, Andrew interrupted, flabbergasted. “They have _legs_? And they walk on their _own_?”

The Pooka chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Ye travelled halfway across the globe with magic to talk to a space rabbit in his magical underground greenhouse”, he mocked, using the same words Andrew had used in a previous visit. “Surely that much can’t be that surprising at this point?” 

Lie. It was perfectly understandable for the young mortal to be surprised. Still, a little teasing wouldn’t harm anyone, right?

Andrew just gaped at him, then at the egglet fields and back at him again, and Aster couldn’t help but smirk at his antics.

Afterwards, the young larrikin insisted on helping with the task of seeding the fields. “Not quite fair to have you get to work while I just sit around and watch, is it?”. 

Aster was quick to put his foot down. “Ye’re my guest, lil’ mate. It just ain’t right for me to put ya to work like that.”

And that was supposed to be the end of it. The Pooka would get back to work, and offer Andrew the choice of staying and watching or leaving as he wished, for he couldn’t just leave it unfinished to give the ankle-biter the attention he was due. 

Except Andrew countered in a fashion Aster could only describe as “unfair”. “It’s no trouble at all for me. Looks pretty interesting, actually. Besides, I get to learn something new and productive for a change. _And_ I get to properly spend time with you to boot, which was kinda the point of me coming here today anyway... right?”

Somewhat taken aback, Aster eyed the boy. He made quite a few good points, and then topped it all off with the most innocent look in his face he’d seen since... well, Sophie, in fact, but _Jack_ was more what the Pooka had in mind when he saw Andrew.

And then the kid backpedaled, expression suddenly becoming apologetic. “Of course, if it _is_ a problem for you after all, I understand...”

Completely. Unfair.

Aster sighed. If the boy was willing...

“Fine”, he said slowly, on a level tone. 

The boy looked up at him in surprise. And then beamed, nodding in agreement. 

“Ye’re wearing an apron, though. And gloves”, Aster added, pointing a finger at him. “We don’t wanna have yer clothes _too_ full of dirt later, yer dam would have a fit.”

The boy raised an eyebrow at him. “Dam?”

“Yer mother.”

“Ah.”

After they got Andrew properly suited with the apparel Bunny usually gave Sophie - which took a bit of clever folding to fit him - they set to work together. Aster knew the boy’s untrained assistance wouldn’t amount to much, though, and so the Pooka found himself showing his charge the ropes of the task - essential stuff like as the right depth to dig the hole for the seeds to go into, the exact amount of fertilizing compost and water to add to the seeds once planted, and warning him to take care not to undo the harrowing Aster had done earlier. 

To his utter (retrospective) surprise, rather than annoyed by the time consumed in the process - time that could have been spent getting some _much needed progress_ in his work - the Pooka found himself _enjoying_ to teach the boy the finer points of soil seeding, watch him fumble his way through it, call him out - gently - when he made mistakes, and encourage him to learn from them and keep trying until he got it right. 

True, he had done all that with Sophie before. But Sophie was special. They first met under the most unusual circumstances, during the last altercation with Pitch, and from then on she became his most favorite ankle-biter in the whole world... almost like a daughter to him. He’d _never_ expect to have that kind of rapport with another mortal ever again.

And now there he was, beginning to befriend _another_ mortal child.

Aster didn’t even feel the time passing, and when they were done, night had already long fallen, bathing the Warren in Manny’s gentle moonlight. 

Aster smiled at the boy. “Good job, lil’ mate. The field’s a real beaut now.”

Andrew rubbed the back of his head. “It’s not like I did a perfect job...”, he mumbled, likely thinking of the times he added too much water or fertilizer, or the times he kicked some harrowed soil back over a couple of planted seeds.

Aster crouched down and looked the boy in the eye. “No one does, lil’ mate. Especially not the first time.” He put a paw on his shoulder for emphasis. “The only way to get good at something, _real_ good, is by putting in the time and effort.”

Andrew gulped. “So you think I did... fine?”

The Pooka smiled at him again. “That you did.”

The boy smiled right back at Aster. And shy though it may have been, it shone bright and pure like the sun. 

After a quick R&R by the Pooka’s personal burrow, he saw the kid back home, then returned to get himself tucked in to sleep. 

It was strange, Aster thought, shifting around on his nest. Though Andrew was little more than an acquaintance compared to Sophie or his fellow Guardians, the Pooka couldn’t help but open up to the boy that day, and find himself believing they could move on to become good friends at the end of it.

Maybe Aster was growing soft after all...

But was that such a bad thing?

...............................................................

Andrew laid down on his bed back home, preparing to sleep. Visiting Bunny by himself turned out alright, in the end. His first surprise of the day, noting that the Warren was actually bright at day and not always dark like the first time he had been there, had been far from the last one, what with the walking eggs thing he had yet to see - one more thing to look out for, he guessed.

All in all, he hung out with the Pooka - the Easter Bunny being an _alien_ of all things still baffled him, but that’s how it was - as he started planting for Easter and Andrew got to help out - or, more accurately, got to learn a bit of gardening from him. 

(Sophie was _ecstatic_ too, when she heard about it from him later that day.)

It was hard work, the brunette thought, looking at the calluses and blisters that formed in his hands along the day. _Never_ in his life had felt as sweaty and dirty and _exhausted_ as he did that morning (late afternoon into the night back at the Warren)... But the fact that he was hanging out with Bunny made it all not so bad. And in the end, he felt his chest swell with pride at having done something so _productive_. Not only did he learn a bit about gardening, but he also got to _help set next year’s Easter in motion_ in the process! 

He closed his eyes and smiled at himself, feeling immensely fulfilled. No matter how small or inconsequential his participation had been in the end, he was allowed to feel a little proud of himself... wasn’t he?

............................................................

The first weeks of Winter break went by fast. The only duties Andrew had to attend to were his weekly appointments with Mrs. Pendleton, and during Sophie started going out together often - to play together in the snow, and to go meet their friends, they would tell Mrs. Bennett.

Which was true, by the way. They weren’t lying at all. Just omitting the fact that _the Easter Bunny_ was one of said friends. And really, it wasn’t like she would believe the truth if they told her. 

As it turned out, it was an yearly routine for the older girl to go help Bunny with Easter preparations, starting just before Christmas, around early December... which Andrew really could have figured out on his own, what with the only slightly oversized gardening gloves and apron he wore - Bunny had even mentioned _she_ used to use those, hadn’t he? - and with what he knew of Sophie’s persistence on not allowing those around her to isolate themselves.

What Andrew managed to figure out on his own, though, was that the Pooka likely didn’t _need_ help with his own job. After all, he already did it, what, centuries before the girl was even _born_? He probably should get to try and pry around that too...

And sure enough, when Andrew pointed it out to her, she told him her actual reason:

“You know how Bunny always keeps to himself, right?”

The boy assented. Just what he had thought.

“Well, growing up with him, I ended up noticing Bunny keeps to himself too much for his own good... kinda like you do, actually”, she told him with a pointed look. “So I hang around him to keep him company, and remind him that it’s good to have friends by his side.”

He cocked his head at the blonde, flashing her a knowing smirk. “Just like you do with me?”

“Just like I do with you!”

Yeah. He was _not_ about to argue with that. As if he could. And so, the way everything added up, the two foster siblings had a very eventful winter break. 

“Ya sure ya wouldn’t rather play outside than, ya know, waste yer youth working here for me?”, Bunny would ask him every once in a while when he and Sophie were helping out with the egglet fields. But the teenager had already warned him beforehand that Bunny was likely to be pretty insistent about “not wanting to trouble him”, just like he did with her years ago, and that she’d had to insist right back - _a lot_ \- before he finally dropped it and just accepted her company. 

So Andrew just shook his head and gave him his most sincere smile. “I like gardening, Bunny. And I also like _spending time with you_ ”.

Bunny gave him a funny look just then, turning his head sideways and eyeing him for a while. The boy saw his ears tilting backwards and his thin lips pursing together, looking fairly uneasy with the situation, just before the Pooka fully turned away from him to keep working on his side of the fields.

His first impulse was to ask if he was being a bother to his friend, but he couldn’t think of a way of asking it without giving Bunny an opening to send him away - and ruining his plans to make the reclusive Pooka company - _or_ having it sound like emotional blackmail - and thus like he was _coercing_ the rabbit-man into having him over - so he thought it wiser to keep it to himself. He’d just have to brave through it, like Sophie before him...

In just a couple weeks, the egglet plants the three of them had been tending to to had sprouted and bloomed into beautiful flowers, filling the fields with all the colors he knew and then some. 

In one word, it was _beautiful_. 

“Around Christmas time, the first egglets should ripen and fall off. That’s when the painting job begins, going all the way up to Easter Day proper,” Bunny explained. 

Andrew could just stare at the results of their work. Well, Bunny’s work, with minimal input from him and Sophie. 

Those were the flowers that would make Easter happen. 

He couldn’t help but look at Bunny then, full of admiration. Sophie herself just looked over at the egglet flower fields with a satisfied smile. 

The little one couldn’t help but feel content. He would remember it as one of the most important moments in his life...

........................................................

The little man walked down the snow-covered streets on his way back home, covered in dignified sweat, pleased with himself for yet another successful basketball training session. The team followed his lead like clockwork, and he was sure victory would come to them in the next game as naturally as the sun itself rose every morning. 

Now, everyone was both _finally_ acknowledging his technique and leadership skills, _and_ improving their own game as well. He no longer needed to keep proving himself, or... “pulling aside” anyone for getting in his way or making some dumb mistake. 

Or God forbid, _questioning_ him, like that one guy... he made sure to teach that punk a lesson he’d never forget. They certainly didn’t need any damned upstarts like him anyway, messing up the teamwork...

Will Hawks came to a sudden halt, though, as did his mental grumbling. He had just turned the corner to his street, when he saw his younger sister, Megan, playing in the snow and laughing with some other boy.

And to make it all worse, it was that _creep_ , Andrew Bennett! 

Will felt his face flush, and he saw red. Hadn’t he told that dumb nutcase to _stay the hell away from his sister_?

Stomp by loud stomp, he made his way over to the two other kids, beginning to make plans to turn the impudent creep approaching his sister black and blue all over...

................................................

Paul Jones was strolling down the walkway, his trusty backpack hanging down his shoulders, dreaming with the hot shower waiting for him back home, when he heard a cacophony of screams, yelps and grumbles only a few meters away from him. 

When he ran over to see what was happening, he saw two boys who seemed no older than ten rolling on the snowy clearing, punching and grabbing at each other while a little girl who appeared to be around the same age looked on in despair, alternately yelling for them to stop and trying to pull them apart. 

The officer raced into the scene, and pulled the boy laying on top of the other by the arms. The boy looked around and gave him a scathing glare, but his eyes soon widened in surprise. 

“Mr. Jones?”

The older man was also surprised. It was none other than the kid he had investigated a little more than two weeks prior, now bruised, with a black eye and looking pretty worse for the wear. The one who had to be stopped before he killed himself. 

“Andrew Bennett? What’s going on here?”, he demanded. 

The kid looked back and scowled, the scar on his neck becoming visible as he craned it toward the other boy, now sitting up. “Oh, nothing”, he yelled in an equally dry tone, clearly meant for everyone to hear, though his voice was also hoarse. “The piece of shit called Will decided he wanted to harass me more than usual today!”

The boy named Will, then held back by the girl, snapped right back at Andrew. “You gotta learn your place, Bennett! I warned you, no messing with my sister!” 

Paul didn’t miss how he looked as battered as the Bennett boy, complete with blood trickling down from a small wound right over one of his eyebrows. 

“He wasn’t _messing_ with me, Will! _You’re_ the one who needs to learn his place!”

“Don’t speak up when you don’t understand _anything_ , Megan! I’m your older brother and you gotta listen to me!”

A sharp sound echoed through the clearing. 

Will was suddenly looking at the snow, his face turned away by the force of the slap he received from his sister, who had pushed herself away. He reached up to his reddened cheek, then looked back up at the girl, a dumbfounded look crossing his face. 

The girl looked _furious_ , frowning at her brother even as the tears rolled down her own flushed cheeks. 

“Piss off, you idiot!” She waved a finger menacingly close to his face. “You don’t _own_ my life!”

Will just looked on in shock. 

It was then that Paul decided enough was enough. 

“Alright, alright, playtime’s over”, he yelled in a commanding tone, clapping his hands. “Everyone, _look up here NOW_!”

The three kids fell silent and looked up. As he scowled at them in disapproval, they just kept staring at him, stunned into silence. 

Good. He had the situation under control now. 

................................................

Carla Bennett leaned against the wall in the corridor, wiping some sweat from her brow, as the sun began to set down for the day. The middle-aged woman had already seen her littlest boy in a sorry state for - what, the third time in less than a month now? 

She sighed. At least he hadn’t been unconscious this time - or at risk of _death_. 

As soon as the matriarch found out _her son_ had gotten into a stupid _fight_ with some other kid, though, her mood... swung. She went off about how _unacceptable_ it was to solve things with _violence_ , and she had never raised Jamie and Sophie to do that kind of thing, and... Yeah. She went and ran her mouth all over one of her kids. Again. Really, when would she learn?

Shameful as that had been, though, it hadn’t been the worst part. Andy, who had been receiving his lecture in silence up until then, just... snapped. No, really, she had no better word for it...

_”SO WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO, MRS. BENNETT? HUH?” Anger and dread mixed up in his grimace._

_Carla... didn’t know he could scream that high._

_Or look so pained. Back when he had been hospitalized, he looked numb, almost robotic in his drive to... do what he had meant to. Even at the critical moment then, his voice was ever low, if deep with despair. And just moments ago, he had looked just as emotionless._

_“WILL JUST CAME AND STARTED BASHING ME, AND HE WOULDN’T STOP! HE WOULDN’T LET ME GO!”_

_Carla realized then she had _never_ seen Andy lose control like that. Apathetic Andy, hysterical Andy... the Bennett matriarch didn’t know which one broke her heart the most to see._

_And then..._

_“SHOULD I HAVE JUST LET HIM BEAT ME TO DEATH, THEN?”_

Andrew’s words made her shudder even now.

The boy just let his head drop after, brows furrowed and breathing labored. Carla _should have_ held on to her argument, and told her son that there were better ways to deal with bullies and situations of violence... but she felt anything she could have said on that regard would just fall flat, even to herself. 

Left speechless, all she could do was dress the boy’s wounds and give him cool water compresses to apply on his bruises in silence, save for her orientations on how to treat his wounds. Those met weak mumbles for answers as the boy seemed to have slipped back into the apathetic demeanor she had gotten used to seeing from him, whenever he was in a bad mood...

But she couldn’t forget what she had just seen. The tension that hung in the air as a result was just insurmountable, and as soon as she was done tending to her kid, she retreated from his room like a coward.

“How are you doing?”

The woman blinked, and looked aside. Mr. Jones, who had witnessed the whole fiasco from beginning to end, having stepped away only when she begun to tend to Andy’s wounds, looked back at her. He had been so quiet, after he witnessed her kid’s outburst, that Carla had almost forgotten he was still there.

He probably had been as shocked as her...

“I’ll manage”, she finally replied. 

“Mm”

More uncomfortable silence followed, neither adult managing to find the words to break it.

“I knew...”, the Bennett woman muttered aloud, eyeing the wall across herself. “...that Andrew would be _nothing_ like Jamie or Sophie, you know. He’s rebellious, independent and distant... but deep down, I _know_ there’s good in him.” 

She didn’t know, exactly, why she was confessing those things to the police officer - someone she had first met just a month ago, just because he was in charge of investigating Andy’s case, and that for whatever reason fate saw fit to have them meet again... Perhaps she thought he would understand, because he looked old enough to be the chief of a family of his own? With a wife, and children of his own whose problems he had to deal with as well?

Nah... 

“I know he _is_ a good kid. I really do. I just... I just don’t know how to reach out to him, sometimes...” She sighed, letting her arms sag in defeat. “And just when I begin to think I can be a good mother to him, something like this happens, and I just... lose it.”

It was just because the man was the closest listening ear she had available to dump her frustrations on at the time, she decided.

She shook her head. “And then I end up hurting him...”

“Mrs. Bennett, I...”, Officer Jones said softly before pausing to clear his throat, causing her to look up at him. “I’m not sure I can say I understand. I’ve helped my parents raise my younger brother, but... I’ve never been a father, myself.” 

He turned to look at her, a soft but firm look in his eyes. “But I’ve seen the lengths you’re willing to go to for him. And I have learned this much: even if you don’t know what to do... even if you make mistakes along the way... the most important thing is that you try your best for the ones you love, and that you don’t give up on them.”

She hardened her own gaze, and her response was rushed, almost frantic. “No, I’m not giving up on him. Ever.”

He smiled at her, crossing his arms. “Then there’s nothing to worry about. You love him, and because of that you will do everything in your power to be the best mother you can for him.”

That wasn’t even a question.

He placed his hands, big and warm, on her shoulders in a reassuring gesture. “And if something about your attitude is hurting your son... you can change it. I know you can.”

Carla felt her heart float inside her chest, buoyed by a sea of gratitude and hope. She had raised her kids - one, then two, and _then_ three - with nothing but her own determination, even through Jamie’s depression and Sophie’s bullying and Andrew’s running away and _suicide attempts_ , and now... well, she felt rather silly for feeling so uplifted and encouraged by an outsider’s impression when she’d never had much outside help to speak of for all those years... and yet...

Maybe it was _because_ it was someone outside her family, recognizing her efforts and believing in her to change for the better for the sake of her kid who needed her...

“Yes”, she eventually replied, smiling. “Thank you. I’ll do my best... I have to.”

Mr. Jones smiled back at her, and for a few seconds Carla felt like things would work out just fine.

Then, the officer spoke up again. “Now, if you excuse me, I should go home now...”

Oh. Right. “Sure. Let me see you to the door...”

As they both turned away and walked up to the front door, though, as soon as the officer was facing away from her, Carla let her smile drop, frowning down at the man’s back without really looking at it.

That wasn’t the first time the Bennetts’ matriarch “went off” on one of her kids when that was the last thing they needed. And she feared it wouldn’t be the last.

Even worse, Jamie and Sophie ultimately learned to just shake it off, for she would always apologize later - and they both respected and trusted her to this day, which meant she must have done something right when raising them - but because of that it turned out she never really learned how to control her bursts of anger. 

With Andrew, though... The poor boy’s delicate state of mind would need a lot of care from her. Especially if she wanted to avoid a repeat of when he was hospitalized. 

Which she definitely did. She would never want to see him like that _ever again_!

Clenching her hands lightly, Carla Bennett decided that day that she wanted to be a better mother, and that she was going to develop herself as much as she could seek as much help as she could get... for Andrew’s sake!

.............................................................................................................

Andrew was... there was no nice way to put it. He was _moping_.

That he had managed to get in a good one on the greatest idiot’s stupid smug face, and _even managed to get the upper hand in a fight against him for once_ did little to mitigate the shame of being called out by Mr. Jones, and then by Mrs. Bennett.

It looked like all he ever did was causing trouble for them. Everyone he loved, cared for and looked up to... would that never change?

Mr. Jones looked terrifying as he brought Will and Megan back to their houses before dragging him back to the Bennetts’ apartment. And the way he _talked_ about him misbehaving, and how he couldn’t keep acting up like that, or he could become like one of those robbers and other such good-for-nothings in the future... the disappointment was real; it _clung_ to him.

Mrs. Bennett... she yelled at him again. And then he just... went and _yelled back at her_! The woman didn’t even say anything after... just wrapped his wounds, told him the minimum necessary on how to tend to them, and left. And she looked so _hurt_ , Andrew would have even preferred the yelling over it. 

When would he stop troubling her so? When she put in so much effort for their mother and son relationship to work... 

And then there was uber-idiot Will... when would the guy just leave him in peace? It wasn’t like he was doing anything shady with Megan. They were just talking and playing together in the snow, for God’s sake! If he was an actual _reasonable_ guy, Andrew wouldn’t have had to defend himself, and even fight back to do so... But that thought did little to comfort him, because Andrew was already above faulting someone else to ignore his own parcel of responsibility. 

Maybe he should have run away instead... 

Something deep inside him felt _offended_ at the very thought, but how much of it was dumb pride and how much was rightful self-respect, he wasn’t even sure.

Andrew looked down and sighed. He knew it did him no good to let his thoughts go down the road they were in, but he couldn’t help it....

A knock on the door brought him back from his musings.

“C-come in?”, he replied surprised. And his surprise only grew when he saw who had knocked.

“Bunny?”

The boy was in shock, to say the least. He expected Bunny would be in his Warren right then, ever busier with Easter preparation work, or else tending to the rest of the Warren, or even painting some canvas by now - he was good with that too, Andrew found out the other day. The Pooka was literally the last... well, _individual_ he expected to see that moment.

The Easter Bunny, for his part, closed the door quietly behind himself. He was wearing, Andrew noted, the same attire he had worn when they first met only weeks ago - except for large socks covering his feet instead of the boots out of respect for the cleanliness of the house, the boy assumed.

“G’nite, lil’ mate. How are ya doing?”

The young boy felt his face flush, suddenly conscious of his own half-dressed - _exposed_ \- state. He reached for his shirt, hanging on the headboard, as quickly as he could while trying not to draw attention to the fact that he was shirtless...

“Crikey, it was worse than I thought...”, Bunny commented, glancing at the bandaged bruises all over his naked torso. _And that didn’t help his situation in the least!_

“Um... yeah. Pretty nasty fight”, he said, putting the shirt over his lap. “With a huge entitled idiot.”

The Pooka snorted, which was good. It also worked as distraction so that Andrew could pull the shirt over his lanky wounded body and _actually talk to Bunny without wishing the floor would eat him up..._

“Yeah, right. I know the lil’ bloke.” Bunny rolled his eyes slightly. “Needs his dam and sire to tan his hide real fierce.”

Now it was Andrew’s turn to snort. _Of course_ Bunny would know Will - he was a child too. “Megan slapped him real good, though.”

“Oh?” Bunny’s ears perked up at the amusing detail.

Andrew let a small smile creep into his face at the memory of it, dry though it was. “Told him he didn’t own her life and everything. I gotta say, I’m proud of her”

The Pooka smiled, and walked up to his bedside, pulling off his ear-socks (Bunny would probably kill him and Sophie both and hide the bodies if he heard _that_ word again) and gloves and shoving them into one of his coat’s pockets. “Megan’s a good girl. And the two of ye have good chemistry, if I may.”

“Yeah, she’s real nice and...” Andrew blinked, then whipped his head up at Bunny. “Wait a minute, you’ve been watching us?”

Bunny’s own face dropped. “I’ve- Er... Well...”

“Oh my God!” Andrew could feel the pieces clicking inside his head, and he threw his legs over the side of the bed so he could sit facing the Pooka while he gaped at his friend. “Sophie even said it was you back then! I can’t believe I didn’t figure this out earlier...”

Bunny eventually found his voice, and from then on he was a babbling mess. “Yeah, I was telling Sophie everything too, because we just wanted to make sure you’d be fine going back to school after being hospitalized, ya know? Ya were real messed up then, wanting to off yerself, and ya would really have if Sophie hadn’t stopped you, and even before that if I hadn’t found you and...”

“Wait, WHAT?”

Bunny’s mouth clicked shut, and he covered it with a hand, emerald eyes wide open as they looked at him.

“So it was you... you saved me?” Andrew’s voice was almost a whisper.

Slowly, the Pooka lowered his hand from his muzzle, never breaking eye contact. A long, heavy silence hung in the air until Bunny’s reply finally came.

“...Yes.”

That was all Bunny gave him. All he would give.

Andrew purses his lips and looked down at Bunny’s feet, not even knowing whether to yell, to cry or to laugh. He felt like an electric current was running up and down his body. Bunny, too, didn’t move from his spot or say another word. Was he waiting for the boy to process the information he had just received? Was that even possible?

After endless minutes, he heard Bunny finally start to mumble something. “Look, Andrew...”

“Thank you.”

Too bad it had been right after Andrew decided to speak up himself. Now Bunny fell silent again and stared at him, leaving Andrew no option but to continue speaking. “If I had died like that, Sophie and Mrs. Bennett, and even Jamie... they would have been very sad, wouldn’t they?”

Bunny nodded. “That they would.”

“And I would have never met Megan, too.”

Another nod. “That’s true.”

“And I would have never met you, either.”

That gave Bunny pause, but not for long. “Also true.”

Andrew stared at Bunny’s bright green eyes, gulping some air before asking the question that had been stuck in his chest all this time. “Tell me... everything I’ve been doing since you saved my life... no, everything I’ve been doing all my life... was it worth something?” 

Bunny just stared at him, apparently struck speechless. He too felt his throat constricting and his eyes watering... but he couldn’t stop now that he had brought it up. “Is- is it worth it to keep living, for someone like me? Or am I just a burden weighing everyone down, and they’re all actually better off with me gone?”

“No!” 

Bunny’s answer was categorical. 

The Pooka crouched in front of him and grabbed his shoulders. “Ye deserve to live, Andrew, and to be happy! Ye’re a good person, even if ye’re a bit of a shut-in and like to do things yer own way! That’s nothing to be ashamed of!” 

Bunny reached up at his face... 

“ Ye’re smart, and perceptive, and a good friend to those ye care about! ” 

...and wiped away a tear he hadn’t even noticed had fallen on it.

“ Ye deserve to be happy with yer friends and yer family!“ 

Bunny’s expression softened even more, which Andrew had thought impossible.

“ And don’t worry... things will sort themselves out, yeah? Yer family and friends will see to it... and so will I!”

Before he could even think it through, Andrew stood up, not even as tall as Bunny when he was crouching, and flung himself into the Easter Bunny’s arms, feeling them wind around his smaller body in a firm embrace. Andrew’s own arms clutched at his back, trembling slightly as they did so, and he buried his face into Bunny’s shoulder. 

They stood like that for a long while, his tears now running freely while Bunny rubbed circles on his back and whispered words of encouragement to him, over and over. 

“It’s gonna be okay...”

“Ye can do it...”

“Don’t give up...”

“Ye’re worth it.”

It all made him feel relieved, heartbroken and ecstatic beyond what he thought he could ever feel. But more than that, for the first time... he felt his existence _validated_. 

Ever since his issues came to light, he had been told left and right that he should go on living “because his loved ones would want him to” (would they really?) and “because it was the right thing to do” (was it?)... even just “because he could” (which he still rather doubted, even if he wished he could _not_ ). But this... this was the first time someone told him outright that _he was worth it_. Andrew hadn’t even realized how much he had _needed_ to hear that. 

He would be forever grateful to Bunny for saving him. In more ways than one.

And there was another little thing too.

As he calmed down in the Pooka’s strong arms, even through his thick winter clothing... Andrew at least had the _impression_ of having sensed it. Bunny smelled of damp soil and freshly cut grass. Much like his Warren, and yet there was something else in there... something unique to Bunny himself.

He smelled rather nice, the boy decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Finally a new chapter. Which WAS intended to be the last “prologue” one, until it became so huge, I had to split it into two. OTL
> 
> And a (not-so) quick PSA to whom it may concern: the reason I have been kinda missing lately is because I was conscripted to military service - which involves A LOT of military training, including basic survival in the jungle, a tight schedule without quite a set clock-out time, and in my case staying on stand-by even on weekends due to being one of the few doctors available... and believe me when I say I’m _happier_ than I’ve ever been - I’ve finally moved out of my mother’s home to make a living for myself, I’ve met so many new people and made quite a few friends for life, I learned I can withstand a lot more than I ever thought I could... and on top of it all, I’m finally acquiring experience as a doctor and earning my own money!
> 
> Thus, the military service has been, the best antidepressant I’ve taken so far - and all I had to do was accept it with an open mind. Which is good, because it resonates with the message I try to send with everything I write, so yay!
> 
> See you next chapter - still hoping for it to be the last “prologue” chapter. I can’t wait to get to the point where Jack enters the story proper. *giggles*


	5. Things Left Unsaid

North’s face was uncharacteristically somber. 

Well, he guessed... of course it was. 

This meeting was nothing like their usual hangouts, where the Pooka and the old Cossack would have a chinwag over some nice mugs of coffee... or drink, cuss and laugh their worries away until they both wound up _wasted_ the next day - only every once in a while, mind... but a meeting like this.

Either way, at least now Aster could say he had fulfilled his promise to Sophie.

Because even if he hadn’t formally promised her anything, he still felt morally compelled to do so. After all, the Guardians were his friends and he was supposed to trust them, right? And after he had done just that with both Tooth and Sandy, leaving only North out of the loop seemed a mite bit... _unfair_.

After a long silence, North was the first to speak up. “Da, old friend...” The man stood up, walked to the side of his seat, and patted his shoulder in what Aster construed as a gesture of good will. “You were right. That was quite long story.”

Aster sighed through his nose. “That ain’t even the end of it...”

“Quite enough for this night, da?”, the Cossack declared. “We continue another day, if you want.”

“...Right.”

North nodded. “I’ll get water. Is good for sore throat.”

Aster said nothing to that, so North got up to leave.

It was then that the Pooka noticed it - North’s hand had still lingered on his shoulder up until then, and he had only missed it once it was no longer there. Even as he kept his expression neutral, the phantom warmth was hard to ignore. 

As soon as the other Guardian had left the room, Aster dropped all pretense, chuckling to himself and shaking his head. It had felt _mortifying_ to spill his past woes to _North_ , of all people! North, who loved to drag him into endless “my holiday is more important than yours” arguments (of course Easter was more important, the man was just a dimwit)... North, who meddled with other people’s affairs like they were his business with _no regard_ for their opinions, privacy or personal space... Really, how he ended up meeting and befriending _North of all people_ was beyond his comprehension.

Still...

_North... who at the end of the day was still one of his closest friends._

_He who first reached out to him in this new, completely alien world._

_And now listened to him without question or judgement._

He grinned. Why exactly had he suffered alone with his ghosts all this time again? When he had all those friends by his side?

Oh, right, he thought, a tinge of melancholy creeping up into his chest. 

Because of his pride...

..................................................................................

“You need to train your arms more.”

Andrew looked on from his position beside the volleyball net, flabbergasted - Will had come up to him while the other kids left for the day. He had expected to have to go through more yelling, and possibly even _another_ fist fight - especially when the jock would most likely want to settle the score from the last one months ago... but instead Will had just given him some actual _sensible_ advice for his average-at-best track record at spiking the ball.

What in the world happened with the Will Hawks he knew?

The boy in question was still sizing him up with a very stern gaze. “I’ll run some drills with you tomorrow morning. Just...” The young jock pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked back up at him. “Just make sure you don’t drag the whole team down, okay?” 

Even that last part came across with a _lot_ less venom than usual.

“O... kay...” Disconcerted as he was, the answer came out automatically. And then Will just nodded, and turned to leave, not sparing him another word.

After that, Andrew let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

Will Hawks. Being _sensible_. He blinked and jerked his head back away from the door the other boy had just left through.

What was the world coming down to?

..................................................................................

“I see it as an improvement”, Bunny declared solemnly over his coffee mug, his voice a little more tired than usual since he had just woken up from his post-Easter sleep.

Andrew blinked, confused. Will Hawks used to _hate_ his guts, would yell at him for every little thing, even try to _beat him up_ whenever he thought he could get away with it... and was now treating him with basic human decency all of a sudden.

And when he told Bunny the whole story, he _didn’t find it strange_?

“Not one whit”, was the Pooka’s reply when he voiced said question. 

“Who knows, he might have had a change of mind since the last time”, Sophie commented from his side, arms propped up on the table and supporting her head. “Something might have happened to, I don’t know, make him see reason or something. He could be even making up for all the hard time he gave you...”

The boy blinked again. 

Sophie lowered her arms to the table and tilted her head at him. “Only one way to find out, don’t you think?”

Andrew grimaced, and turned to look at Bunny again, who replied after a small yawn behind his hand.

“It’s yer bizzo now, lil’ mate.” He wished he could say he didn’t understand what _that_ meant, but that would be a lie. Bunny took another sip of coffee. “Ye’re gonna have to put up with him for as long as you both study in that school at least. If ye have the chance to so much as make a truce with him, I say ye should take it.” 

The brunette sighed, unable to counter the Pooka’s argument. Left with no other real option - he wasn’t going to go through the hassle of changing schools because of _Will_ even if he could - he looked away from the two philistines and over the vast green expanse of the Warren, and ran a hand over his hair.

Tomorrow was going to suck, he just knew it.

..................................................................................

_Could this have gone any worse?_

A listless Carla Bennett dragged herself out of the psychologist’s office and back to the reception room, where Paul waited patiently with a cup of coffee in hand.

“How’d it go?”

The middle-aged woman took the cup as the officer held it out to her, signaling for the two of them to leave the room with Mrs. Pendleton’s other patients. Once they were alone, back at the main corridor of the apartment complex, she still drank a big gulp before replying. “Horrible.”

Paul quirked an eyebrow up at her. “Horrible how?”

She shook her head. “Horrible as in, I had to question and re-examine everything I did as a mother.”

He just blinked at her.

“I guess I’ve never really been on the receiving end of a psychoanalysis before...” Carla placed the empty cup on the nearest windowsill so she could clutch her own arms. The hard statements - hard truths? - still echoed in her mind...

_”Yes, Carla, Sophie was being bullied at one point and Jamie was depressed at another, and you did right to step in when you did in both cases. But afterwards they weren’t anymore. Maybe you should have encouraged them to go out more and make new friends? I know you were afraid for their sake - I understand that, but what I’m trying to say is... perhaps they would be even better off now if they had had more room to be themselves earlier.”_

_”Carla, you have to let them act on their own! Give them the chance to deal with their own choices and their consequences when they can, and to come to you and trust you of their own accord if **they** feel they need your help!”_

_“It doesn’t fall on us to have control over every little thing. Being the helicopter parent doesn’t take a toll only on Jamie, Sophie, and now Andrew. It also takes a toll on yourself! I mean, have you asked yourself what happened to Carla Bennett, the woman, in the middle of all that?”_

Of all those questions, the last was the one that gave her the most pause.

A sad smile tugged at the corners of Carla’s mouth as she stared at the wall across them. “In the end, I’m glad I came here. It’s like being put into a corner. Nowhere to run or hide, and no way to fool myself into thinking I was better than I really was...”

Paul grimaced at her. “Oh, Carla... even _I_ can tell you did a good job raising Jamie and Sophie, and Andrew too seems to be on the right track, I’d dare say.” He paused, looking sideways as if searching for the right words. “You shouldn’t think you’re doing a poor job with them just because there are things that can be improved!”

Carla’s smile softened at that.

“Granted, I’m not even a parent myself - what do I know, right? But still...!”

She turned to face him and laid a hand on his shoulder, cutting his rambling short. “You’ve been a great help to me, Paul. More than I could have asked for, and I can’t thank you enough for it... and yes, maybe I did a good job with my kids after all, but...” She looked him in the eye. “I guess trying too hard to be a good parent was also part of the problem?” 

Maybe she had really lost track of herself in that struggle after all... and if she wasn’t able to fully be herself, how could she ask that of her children?

That was when an idea struck her. 

She looked at the man in front of him once again. “Paul... I was thinking...”

_“Loosen up, woman!” Mrs. Pendleton waved her hands. “Go out with your friends more! Find yourself a new romance! Reclaim your right to be yourself!”_

She finished explaining her plan to Paul, who now looked at her wide-eyed.

_”I’m sure that doing that will help you find the right balance between caring for your children and respecting their boundaries as well as your own!”_

.....................................................................................

“Still not good enough!” Will tossed the ball back to a panting Andrew Bennett, and took stance again, ready to run to either side. After some warming-up, he had decided to begin with dodgeball - with Andrew throwing, of course. Around a half-hour later, they had both worked up quite a bit of sweat.

“Can’t we just say you’re the freaking better athlete and be done with this?”, the other spat back from the other side of the indoor court. “Admit it, Will, you’re just doing this to humiliate me!”

“Yes, no, and believe you me or not, no.” The young jock’s mouth crooked up. “I _am_ the better athlete, and we’re not stopping until you can actually throw the ball at me.”

Andrew scowled at him. “So you’re admitting you _are_ doing this to make fun of me after all!”

He quirked up an eyebrow. “I’m _not_! I believe I’ve said that already!”

“Oh, you so are!”

Oh, it would be so easy to just make the annoying ungrateful creep eat his fist and be done with it... except that would defeat their purpose there.

But more so...

_He remembered his father’s look of disapproval._

It would defeat his own personal purpose.

_“Will, that’s not what being a man is!”_

_“But dad...!”_

Andrew stomped toward him, hands clenched into fists. “You’re always looking down on me, belittling me, and making my life miserable!” He was on a roll, but Will was only half-listening now.

_”I did everything you told me to! Took care of Megan, played for the team... I did it all!”_

He scrunched his eyes and covered his face with a hand, faking annoyance when in fact he was fighting back tears before they came out for Andrew Bennett to see - now that would be the peak of humiliation!

_“You’re trying to control what you have no business controlling, Will!”. His mother was also there to round on him. “You can’t stop Megan from being friends with someone just because **you** don’t like the kid. And let me add, I didn’t see anything wrong with that Andrew Bennett boy myself!”_

_He was about to reply to that, but his father wouldn’t let up either. “You can’t bully your team to have things go your way! The team’s not about just you!”_

Closer and closer Andrew came, while he was frozen in place. “You just wanted to stroke your damn ego all along, didn’t you, Will?”

Goddamnit...

_Pinned under either parent’s disappointed look, all his arguments torn into little pieces, Will’s arms dropped to his sides. “I...” He tried, only for it to fall flat. “I just...”_

_Nothing would come out, though. After a while, he just pursed his lips._

_Unable to so much as manage some weak excuse to try to save face, he turned, and ran to his room..._

Why did this have to be so difficult?

“Okay, wait! Stop!” Will held out a hand, causing Andrew to stop inches away from him. And to shut his mouth, thankfully. 

“Look...” The taller boy pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. “We might not have been on the best terms, but I’m not doing this to make fun of you, okay?”

He looked up at the Bennett boy, who still looked at him dumbfounded, arms now hanging limply on either side of his body.

And now came the hardest part. 

“You...” He sighed. “You’re not half bad at physical activities. You’re a fast runner, pretty good at dodging and a decent team player too - beside that one time at dodgeball when you acted up and decided to throw the ball on your own...”

The other boy cringed at that. Will kept going before he would start wallowing in self-hatred. Again. “It’s just your throws and spikes that need work, and as the basketball team captain it’s my job to make sure you’ve got all those main skills covered.”

Andrew, who was now looking at him like he had a bug on his face, scratched the back of his head, looking suddenly unsure of what to do or say. “...I’m not in the basketball team, though?”

“Who knows?” Will shrugged. “If you want to, and if you train hard, you might just make it.” And either way, he had his own reasons to help the other kid now. 

Not that he needed to know, though.

Andrew Bennett gaped at him, which was pretty surprising. Was it something he had said? 

He furrowed his brow. “What? It’s true!” 

The other boy then made a really funny face, lips pursed as if he could barely keep himself from bursting into laughter, and eyes gleaming like he was about to cry. It gave Will the mental image of a stray puppy that had gotten thrown a bone, and the jock barely managed to keep his own face straight at the thought.

Definitely not because he was proud of himself for making that Bennett weirdo happy or something. Not at all! He just looked funny!

..................................................................................

The wind howled all over Aster, blowing his coat this way and that, rocky outcroppings peppered all over the mountainside combining with it to make his climb a very difficult one.

“Jack!”, he called at the top of his lungs for what felt like the hundredth time.

A part of the rock under his foot gave out, and he had to grab hold of the wall beside him before he tumbled down and earned himself a bunch of broken bones.

As soon as he had regained his balance, he called out again, louder. “Jack, can ye hear me? I just wanna talk to ya!”

But the only response he got was the sound of the raging wind...

Aster looked down. To man up and deal with his issues - that was the advice he had given to Andrew Bennett. What kind of Guardian - of _Pooka_ \- could he call himself if he didn’t practice what he preached?

But things weren’t working as he’d hoped. He was weary. From the cold, from the climb and from yelling so much after Jack.

And then he thought he picked up a soft, malicious chuckle in the wind, as if to mock him. It was the last straw that forced the anger that had been bubbling inside the Pooka to come forth. “Can’t ye be mature for once and come talk from man to man? Ye bloody larrikin!”

_Oh no..._

He didn’t even have the time to regret his words as they left his traitorous mouth - at least not until he had retreated back into a tunnel before the wind - now strengthened into a gale - threw him away from the mountain. 

Aster cursed to himself, and made his way back to the Warren. When the storming wind stopped, and it became safe to get out there once again, Jack would have been long gone, and with him the point of the Pooka being there at all.

He had wanted to _make peace_ with the boy. Even... apologize for being a _jackass_ to him to the point of driving him away for all those years... and maybe, if he had the courage to, even admit to the winter sprite that he had been right about... about him. 

But in the end, he was still - as he’d heard more than once, and not just from Jack himself - a grump. And Jack had the special skill of getting under his skin, such that when provoked the slightest bit he let his temper go over his head and botched it all.

It seemed like his sins wouldn’t let go of him that easily after all...

..................................................................................

“I think Mr. Jones is going to love it, Mom!”

Carla wouldn’t even deign to give Sophie a reply as she mostly went through the motions of putting up her best earrings and necklace without really focusing on it. No, her mind was too busy trying to process the fact that _she had asked Paul out on a date!_

Well, it wasn’t _exactly_ a date - not in the romantic sense, anyways. They were just friends, right?

_Okay, breathe!_

Her makeup looked reasonably okay - nothing out of place or too scandalous; something simple. Simple was good. Her not-so-new dress looked about as fine on her as she could expect - and no one should notice that tiny ironing stain on the side, especially if she carried her purse over it, right? He would come get her at 8 P.M., and then they would go to the movies. The August night was fresh and cloudless, just perfect...

Oh, who was she kidding? She had _no_ idea whether the whole thing would go remotely okay. It had been way too long since she had done such a thing as going out on a date with a man... What if she made an out-of-place comment and ruined the whole thing? What if she had overdressed? _What if he wanted something more with her_? And what if he _didn’t_?

No, stop! _Stop!_ She could pull this off! They would _go and have a good time if it killed her_...

“Mom, relax!” Sophie’s call pulled her back to reality. “You’re going to be fine!”

...She was failing to do the one thing she had put her mind on, wasn’t she? She let her shoulders sag, grimacing at her own reflection in the mirror. 

“Easy for you to say...”

...........................................................................

Mrs. Bennett looked _gorgeous_ , simply put.

“Told you so!”, was Sophie’s smug reply when Andrew voiced his opinion. “Now just stay calm, be yourself, and let everything work itself out, okay?”

A couple minutes later, while Sophie was helping her mother with some finishing touches, the doorbell rang. The teenage girl raced to the door with a “Coming!” before the younger boy could even react.

He heard her disappointed “Aw, it’s just you, Jamie!” before he had even fully turned to see the oldest sibling meeting with the girl at the door.

Jamie, who had just returned from his part-time work at the cafeteria, put his hand over his heart in mock-offense. “Ouch. Right in the feelings! That’s how I’m treated by my loving family after a long, hard day of work.” 

The young adult gave out a dry smile. “I guess if I’m not well-liked here, maybe you’ll like my guest better!” Then he stepped aside to reveal a man in a nice buttoned down shirt.

It was Mr. Jones.

“Hmm...” Sophie grinned. “Okay, you’re forgiven!” Jamie just snorted through his nose, and then went to close the door behind himself and the officer. 

Mr. Jones stepped forward, smiling. “I see everyone is pretty lively!” Then he averted his eyes to Mrs. Bennett, and his smile grew just a little wider. “You look beautiful!”, he said softly.

“Thank you.” Mrs. Bennett beamed right back at him, and Andrew was sure he would be able to see her blushing if not for the powder on her face.

“Ewwww!”, Sophie mock-sneered. “Adult love! Come on, Andrew, let’s go before we get the cooties!” Then she grabbed Andrew by the arm and made to drag him away - to give the adults their due privacy, the boy figured. Especially by the way Jamie snorted at her antics.

But he still had one thing to say.

“Hey, wait a minute!” He pulled away from Sophie and looked at Mr. Jones. “You take good care of her, okay? She’s my only mother!”

The entire room fell silent. 

Everyone was looking at him now. Andrew himself took a little time before he realized it.

 _My mother._ He had just called Mrs. Bennett his _mother_. 

It was something he thought he’d never be able to do in his life, and now it had come out just like that...

“Uh, I mean...”, the boy stammered, feeling his own face flush. And then he worked himself up. “I’m serious! If you hurt her or make her sad, you’ll have to own it up to me!”

After a moment of stunned silence, Mr. Jones smiled at him. “Roger that, sir! Don’t worry, she’s in good hands!”, he said, holding up his hands. After _her_ initial shock wore off, she smiled at the man, and then turned to smile at _him_.

That was when a completely flustered Andrew found the embarrassment too much to bear. “She... she better be!”, he retorted. Then he turned, and strode right past Sophie and toward his room.

Whatever had come over him to talk like that?

...........................................................................

Paul watched with the rest of the Bennetts while Andrew ran away to his room and closed the door behind him. Jamie snorted, and Sophie chuckled, and then they both walked out of the room themselves, satisfied smiles brightening their young faces.

“Huh. He really is a good kid...”

It surprised him to hear it coming out of his mouth so soon, so naturally... but it was true, wasn’t it? He had had the chance to see it for himself. Andrew, helping out with the chores, doing his homework and doing his best to stay away from trouble - even if sometimes trouble found him, like with that Will Hawks boy - and... _attempting suicide because he thought he did more harm than good to the ones he loved..._

_“Because you’re better off without me.”_

The officer frowned, and shook the spine-chilling memory away.

The beautiful woman beside him seemed to not have taken notice as she still smiled after her son, her eyes brimming with love. “He sure is.”

He smiled again. The road to hell was paved with good intentions, especially in Andrew’s case. But Carla, Jamie and Sophie were with him, and he knew he could trust them to not let their youngest go down that road ever again.

He counted himself lucky for having met such a loving family.

...........................................................................

“Marriage?”

The sun already “high” in the Warren, meaning it was nearing bedtime back in Burgess for his two charges, who he was treating to a well-earned snack after a bit of hard work - and it still buggered him to that day, the way he had just come to accept their regular help by now.

Oh, well. It _was_ a way of them spending time together. It wasn’t like he had ever forced, or even _coerced_ either of them to do it, right?

Andrew looked up from his bowl of fruit slices, wet strands of hair sticking to his face as proof of his hard work with the googies that day. “Yeah. They’ve hit it off pretty well the last few months.” 

Aster’s ears dropped. “Isn’t it a mite bit too soon?”

Sophie shrugged, picking another slice of apple from her own bowl. “Maybe... but then again how are they going to know if it will work or not if they don’t try? It’s been almost an year already...” She munched on the fruit. “They’ve argued over petty stuff, they’ve gone back and apologized to each other afterwards, they’ve even stood up together for Andrew when he had trouble at school again...”

Andrew frowned and averted his eyes at the mention of that one incident.

“We’ve talked ‘bout this before”, Aster said, placing a paw on the boy’s shoulder, causing him to jerk his head up to look at the Pooka. “T’was not yer fault. Will and Megan don’t blame you either. Don’t beat yourself up over it!”

The younger Bennett nodded, albeit reluctantly. 

“Well, I think they check out the whole ‘list of people who love each other very very much’!”, Sophie interjected emphatically, drawing the attention of the other two back to her. “I fully approve of them just going for it!” It didn’t escape Aster that she probably had the intention of changing the uncomfortable subject.

The boy nodded at her, then propped his head on one of his arms, head tilting sideways. “Too bad it will be a week before Easter, Bunny, you could’ve come too...”

True. Easter prep had kicked into high gear already, and it was already consuming all of Aster’s time and energy as per usual. He didn’t have a minute to spare...

...or did he?

The Pooka paused. It’s not like he was behind on schedule at all, especially when he had the help of his two favorite ankle-biters. And if he made a bit of extra effort, he could even spare that one night off... right?

He cleared his throat. “Actually...”

.............................................................................

“You... want to take my name?”

It was night, less than two months before their marriage’s due date - _breathe, woman!_ \- and among all the other preparations, the topic this time somehow veered into the marriage certificate. Needless to say, Paul’s decision came completely out of left field to her.

Paul smiled at her, her hands still cupped inside his own warm ones. “I’d be proud to”, he said in a soft voice. “The way I see it, you already have a loving, beautiful family, and all I’m doing is becoming yet another part of it.”

Carla brought a hand to cover her mouth. “But your parents... what would they think?”

“Mom’s fine with it”, he said. “Actually, she fully agreed with me when I explained it to her. Dad’s... a little less so. But hey, it’s _our_ decision” He squeezed her hands for emphasis. “Not his.”

Carla couldn’t even keep the smile away from her face. Not because the family name matter was _so very important_ to her - she certainly wasn’t about to abort her plans for a life with this wonderful man before herself because of something as superfluous as changing her last name - but the idea that he was willing to take their name as a sign of respect for her and hers... 

She didn’t even know when exactly she had wrapped herself into his arms. Nor did she care to.

.............................................................................

Andrew was having a hard time keeping a straight face with how _ecstatic_ he was! 

The big day was happening right then. Mrs. Bennett was standing on the altar with the man she loved most - _and was going to be their father-in-law now_ \- and he and Sophie got to watch it up close and even be a part of it, as page and maid of honor. Mr. Jones was positively glowing, while his mother looked ready to burst into tears of joy and wasn’t even bothering to hide it. Jamie watched them on from the sideline, as did Will and Megan and their parents from their seats, having been invited... 

Even Bunny had actually managed to take the night off from Easter prep just to come watch them in such a special occasion, currently perched on Sophie’s shoulder in _miniature size_ \- it still baffled him, the idea that tall and strong Bunny could willfully shrink to the size of an Earth rabbit.

And there was no other way to put it, he looked _adorable_! Especially with that formal brown suit tailor made to fit his smaller size...

“Do you, Carla Bennett, accept Paul Jones as your husband for all life?”

Oh, crap! It was time! 

“I do!”

He gulped, his heart pounding in his chest.

He wasn’t going to miss it for the world!

...........................................................................

Marriages were always so _lovely_! 

After a gorgeous ceremony filled with so much love, excitement and hopes for the future, Megan Hawks couldn’t help but be in high spirits, twirling around in her own blue dress and humming “Here Comes The Bride” as the Hawks made their way to the afterparty...

“Megan, stop that, please!”, Will said beside her while running a hand over his face. “There’s only so much embarrassment I can take in one night!”

The girl pouted at him. “It’s no embarrassment, Will. It’s _love_ , and it’s beeeeautiful!”

Her older brother sneered at her. “Yeah, sure, whatever you say...”

“Hey, everyone!”

Mrs. Bennett’s call from the party hall’s reception desk signaled that they had arrived. She was accompanied by her now-husband, Mr. Jones, as well as her three kids.

“Carla! Congratulations!” Her own mother greeted the bride with a kiss to either cheek, followed by her father with a firm handshake.

“Thank you so much! I’m so glad you all came...”

While the adults - including Jamie - had their own conversation over her head, the children went off to another corner.

“Yo, Andrew!” Will went over to his friend and high-fived him in greeting.

“Hiya, Will! Thanks for coming!” Andrew was beaming at him, before his face faltered a bit. “I think I did a decent job as page, right? God, I was so nervous...”

Will flicked his finger at Andrew’s forehead lightly, causing the other boy to look back up at him. “Decent? You _nailed_ it, dude! I know _I_ wouldn’t stand to stay all nice and still up there like you did for even a full freaking minute...”

Andrew smiled shyly at her brother. And unnoticed by them, Megan smiled at them both. 

She had been noticing it for a while now - the way the two seemed to smile brighter in the other’s presence, and to talk to and play with each other more and more frequently since they made peace...

“It doesn’t even look like they used to hate each other’s guts, huh?”

Megan looked to the side - trying to act like she hadn’t almost jumped out of her skin - to see Sophie standing beside her, a beautiful pink-clad angel watching over Andrew the same way she did with Will.

“Not at all...” was her mumbled reply to the older girl. She always admired Andrew’s older sister, ever since she first saw her, and that admiration only grew the more she got to see and learn about the Bennetts’ middle daughter - especially the way she came out of a history of peer oppression all the more stronger for it. It only figured that she couldn’t bring herself to respond to such an amazing girl _like a normal person_.

Megan tensed up a bit then. There was something she was wanting to ask Sophie about... something that was bothering her ever since she first saw the Bennett girl at the marriage. Now that she was relatively alone with Sophie, everyone else around them too occupied minding their own business, the opportunity had suddenly presented itself.

“Um... Sophie...”

She had asked Will about it when they were seated together at the church, but her brother didn’t really give her any helpful answer...

The other girl smiled serenely at her. “Yes?”

So she had thought it was just her imagination at first, and had been about to leave it at that. It wouldn’t be even the first time. But then she remembered Andrew’s words to her...

_”There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Megan, than are dreamt of in your philosophy!”_

“I’d been meaning to ask you...”

_The brown-haired boy smiled at her from where he stood in the field of snow. It looked so much more right on him than his usual sullen look._

_“It’s Shakespeare. Or so Sophie told me at least...”_

As the night went on and she stuck with that idea, it became clearer in her eyes, and all her doubts vanished.

“Who is that cute rabbit in a tux on your shoulder? Is it your pet?”

And there went Sophie’s serenity.

The older girl gaping and jerking her head back at her would have been strange enough... if it wasn’t for _the rabbit itself_ somehow mimicking her expression.

Stranger still, was the way Sophie went from agape in one moment to smiling so much at her in the next that her face looked ready to break any moment...

“Come with me. We’ll need a little privacy for this!”, the blonde girl said, taking her hand and dragging her along for all of three steps before she stopped herself. “Wait, let’s call Andrew up too...”

.............................................................

_The snowflake saw them from afar as they stood outside a well-lit building where a fancy party was taking place._

_The Easter Bunny, dressed in a nice tux, together with three kids - the oldest one of them he recognized, though not at first, since it had been so long and she looked different now. The other two he didn’t._

_The rabbit looked so happy... even as far as he was he could see him laughing heartily and playing with the kids._

_**Laughing. Playing. Having fun!** _

_Huh._

_Well. What did he care?_

_They could enjoy themselves all they wanted now. In a matter of years at most, either the kids would forget the Easter Bunny, or the Easter Bunny would just start ignoring them..._

_He could certainly attest to that._

_The snowflake spun in midair, then let himself be blown away to parts unknown..._

...................................................................

Aster dropped down on his nest at last, only five hours away from daybreak - five hours he’d have to get _some_ sleep before the next day of painting eggs to the point of exhaustion. 

He loved his job. He really did. But boy did it take a toll on him. The difference in time zones had meant that he’d had time for no more than one quick snack before he went right back to his work with the googies as soon as he came back from the Bennetts’ marriage. Meaning he only had time to process what had happened there _now_.

The Pooka had to reckon... he was _changing_. He would _never_ have put his duty as Easter Bunny aside for so much as a minute in the past... and this time he had done it for a _whole morning_ (night back in Burgess). 

But then, it was for the sake of his most favorite ankle-biters - he _wanted_ to be there to support them and take part in such an important moment of their lives. And it wasn’t like he had _neglected_ his duty in any way - he had made sure to have even more eggs painted from the day he’d known about the marriage, all to make up for the lost time in advance. 

Aster chuckled at the memory as he shifted under his blanket - he already had stooped as low as accepting help not only from Andrew and Sophie themselves before, but this time he went as far as borrowing a couple of yetis from North (which was doubly aggravating for him, between having to endure Nick’s teasing of his capabilities and then to deal with the yetis themselves, who were mostly used to painting things on monocolor and had to be taught that his googies needed more care than _that_ ).

And looking back at it all... he would have done it all over again in a heartbeat. All for the sake of his most beloved children. 

Which now even included little Megan Hawks - and hadn’t that been a nice surprise? He knew Megan wasn’t the firmest believer since the day he first checked on the little sheila, back when Andrew was beginning to make friends with her. There were quite a few children out there like that. They weren’t fully skeptical of the existence of spirits, but didn’t really believe in anything they hadn’t properly witnessed with their own eyes either. As a result, they managed to catch some signs of magical activity, but more often than not dismissed it as their own imagination.

It stood to reason then that the Pooka _wasn’t_ expecting the girl to go and confront himself and Sophie and show them the strength of her belief the way she did.

He couldn’t help but smile at himself. He was making allowances for himself that he wouldn’t have otherwise, all because of _them_... and it was bringing him quite the wonderful new experiences. And now that he was in the middle of it, he didn’t feel like it was changing him for the _worse_!

However, his smile then faded, and he curled in on himself.

The only things Aster regretted... was that Jack Frost hadn’t been there to see what Aster had been up to now - opening his heart, becoming closer than he ever thought he would be to his friends, Guardians and mortal children alike... and that he didn’t get the chance to try the same with said winter sprite now.

It was his last thought before he slipped into a deep, well-earned slumber...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...are always left unsaid for one reason or another.
> 
> So there we have the fifth chapter! In the end the sixth chapter will still contain a part of the prologue, but I can say with relative certainty that I’ll be able to make the transition of the storyline such that the second act, so to speak, will have been established nice and proper by the end of it. If you think things are calm and peaceful now, well... buckle your seatbelts. *snickers*


	6. Bold, But I’m Not That Bold

Time passed. 

After Mrs. Bennett and Mr. Jones... no, after _his parents_ married, Andrew’s life became even more eventful - something he had thought impossible after meeting with the real Easter Bunny. 

Said Easter Bunny started introducing him to his other friends.

“Holy mother of God...”, he exclaimed for what felt like the hundredth time as he looked around Santa Claus’s workplace - the Workshop, as Bunny had called it. 

Yetis and elves scuttled around doing their own jobs - helping around and fooling around, respectively - while toys ran, crawled and even flew around on their own, creating an almost overwhelming mess of sound, color and motion. Bunny himself looked mostly calm about all that, though he still seemed to wince at a slightly louder noise every once in a while.

“So the toymaking goes on for the entire year?” Megan beside him had to ask a little louder than she usually spoke, to make herself clear amidst the cacophony around them. And the fact that she was there with them at all still hadn’t quite ceased to amaze him yet.

“Da. I also have to check naughty list every day! Much work all the time!”

Santa himself, or North, according to Bunny, currently led them all on this tour of the place. He seemed very proud and not one bit exhausted or exasperated at his own statement. It made Andrew believe the old man loved his job as much as Bunny seemed to love his own...

Then Santa turned to the other spirit with a wry grin plastered on his face. “Unlike little Bunny who works for four months and spends rest of the year painting and playing around with kids, and still won’t admit Christmas is better!”

Bunny scowled and balled his hands into fists, kicking a toy train aside as he stomped toward Santa. “Oi! I’d like to see ya try painting a couple billion eggs by yer own hand!”

Their discussion got all the more heated, the Pooka becoming ever angrier and retorting with more heat, while North not only made more and more jabs at Bunny with all the calm in the world, but even looked _amused_ at their own antics, if the way the corners of the old man’s eyes wrinkled up and his lips twitched ever so slightly (suppressing laughter?) were any indication.

Andrew turned his head to glance backwards. “Should we be worried?”

Sophie, who had been walking at the back of the group, had the most nonchalant expression as she approached him. “They do this almost every time they meet”, she muttered for the two arguing spirits not to notice them. “Don’t worry, they will drop it soon enough. After this exchange, North will look smug and Bunny will give him the silent treatment for the rest of the day, with some caustic remarks here and there that will spark a few repetitions of this. By tomorrow at most, they’ll be talking to each other as if none of this ever happened.”

Andrew just grimaced at her. 

“Trust me, I’ve seen that a million times already.”

Somehow Andrew didn’t feel very satisfied about the idea of Bunny stressing himself out over such a little thing... weren’t both holidays equally as important to the children, after all?

While Megan fawned over “the fanciest doll accessories set I’ve ever seen” and North and Sophie watched her with pride and amusement, respectively, Andrew sidled over to Bunny to ask just that. 

And what he got in response was a furry hand ruffling his hair. 

“We all know that, lil’ mate.” When he looked up, he saw the Pooka was... smiling? “It’s apples. North just has a big ego, and I indulge him to break the ice a mite bit, that’s all.”

Andrew blinked at him. “So you just pretend you’re mad when you’re not really mad at all? Why would you do that?”

Bunny’s ears dropped. 

His green eyes darted from one side to the other. Eventually he even opened his mouth as if to say something, only to shut it again. 

Only at the end of the day, long after Bunny had shrugged off the question by pointing out they were being left behind and dragged him over to the rest of the group, long after even their visit to the North Pole had ended and Bunny brought them back home, did it cross Andrew’s mind.

 _Maybe_ Santa wasn’t the only one there with an inflated ego...

Another thing he didn’t quite forget was the softness and warmth of Bunny’s large hand on his head... it lingered on his skin under the hair for quite a while, even long after the Pooka had withdrawn it. 

And for some reason it made him feel warm and happy.

................................................................

Next up was Toothiana - the Tooth Fairy. Sophie hadn’t been able to join them this time, so only he and Megan went along with Bunny.

The way the feathered lady had made a beeline for them, babbling a mile a minute with a smile from ear to ear on her face, as soon as she had put her eyes on them... still gave him _chills_. Even if Bunny has warned them of her... _excitability_. 

At least the shock had been mitigated by the way Bunny stopped her - he just raised an arm in front of them and gave her his best cold glare. 

“Tooth, no!”

And with just that, the Tooth Fairy stopped in midair, crossed her arms and _pouted_.

The rest of the visit had been pretty amazing, however. Pun Jam... Pujan... _the Tooth Palace_ was an intricate arrangement of railings and buildings, painting with gold and copper and quite a few other colors the inner part of a mountaintop - thankfully it wasn’t high enough for anyone to suffer from lack of oxygen, which kind of would ruin the visit. And as impressive as _those_ were, their attention was often stolen by the little bird-like things zipping through the air in all directions - the Tooth Fairy’s children?

The feathered lady led them up and down and through the many areas, showing shelf after shelf filled with boxes of baby teeth, from children all around the world and from every age...

“Starting from around a thousand years ago, actually”, Toothiana explained, floating perfectly still a few feet above them, held aloft by her tiny wings buzzing like a hummingbird’s. 

“What?” Andrew blinked.

Megan craned her neck to talk to the airborne Guardian. “So you haven’t always been around doing your work?”

“Nah”, Bunny chimed in beside them while Toothiana herself swooped down to reach them. “Toothiana here is a pretty young sheila for spirit standards...” The Pooka trailed off and looked away when he caught the pointed look Toothiana gave him, an awkward smile on his face. Andrew, who by now had been filled in on his real age, took it as a wordless reference to _Bunny’s_ standards.

“No, Megan...” She drifted away from him to address the mortal girl’s question - and to change the topic, the young boy figured. “I haven’t always been around. Actually I haven’t always been the Tooth Fairy, for that matter... but that’s a rather long story that I’d rather not go into right now.”

Though she smiled warmly at the girl, Andrew thought he could see a tinge of sadness in her eyes. It made his stomach churn to think what kind of past she must have to bear on her shoulders...

His thoughts went back to Bunny then, who stood silent at a distance from the two females, avoiding to draw attention to himself. 

How much of her past did he know?

And for that matter... what kind of past did Bunny have? What kind of burdens did the Pooka keep to himself? This whole deal with Toothiana led him to realize that maybe there was more to Bunny than he let on...

These questions nagged his mind even as Toothiana changed the subject to the prospect of holding a little tea party with them, to celebrate their first visit...

...............................................................................

Next up would have been the Sandman. 

Would have been, because Megan didn’t show up at the appointed time.

After fifteen minutes of waiting, Bunny stood up from where he’d been crouching, drawing his and Sophie’s attention. “I’ll go check on her. I’ll be back in a tic.”

 _Of course_ Andrew did _not_ agree to that. Megan was his friend too, and it was _totally unfair_ that he and Sophie had to stay behind while Bunny could go straight to her and see what was up!

All Sophie did was _look_ at Bunny.

No “Bunny, please”. No “Andy has a point” or any other word from her. Just a pleading look like she was a stray puppy in the rain.

And then Bunny just... 

“Yeah, fine. Let’s go.”

Even as he made to follow, Andrew didn’t know whether to fear or envy Sophie’s capacity for nonverbal communication. 

He did know to envy her level of friendship with Bunny, though. That definitely played a part just now.

Finding Megan was a matter of Bunny tracking her magical energy and following it via tunnel into a secluded clearing amid... an unpleasantly familiar grove of pine trees. 

“Easier to track a believer than a non-believer... they have the magic of belief in them, which helps a lot...”

Bunny’s muttering to himself only drove the metaphorical knife deeper...

“Are you alright?” 

Andrew looked up, and caught Sophie’s eye. The girl looked at him full of concern, and now Bunny had his attention drawn to him as well. 

It was when the brown-haired boy noticed he had been scowling, and had reach up to touch his neck scar.

An awkward smile made its way into his face. No point in lying now, was there?

“Not really...” 

_”Time to get rid of this ugly blotch in the world that is me!”_

“This place brings me bad memories...”

Bunny’s eyes bugged in realization then. “Oh Man in- I’m so sorry, Andrew. I really should have watched my tongue...”

“It’s okay, Bunny, I know you didn’t mean it...”

“It can’t possibly be okay! Strewth, I shouldn’t even have _brought_ you here...”

“Bunny, you shouldn’t blame yourself when I...”

“Ssshh!!!” Sophie’s sharp shushing cut right into their apology contest before it took a very dark turn. “Can’t you two hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Sophie didn’t even need to reply; it only took the three of them falling completely silent for the young boy to hear the low sobbing amidst the trees. 

Bunny pointed toward one of the many trails leading away from the clearing. “This way!”

Twenty seconds of walking led them to the source of the sobs - a red-faced Megan sitting on a log all by herself, sobbing into her hands. 

“Megan?”, Sophie called, causing the younger girl to look up. Andrew and Bunny raced to her side. 

“Are you okay?”, Bunny asked, hopping up to one side of her while Andrew stepped into the other.

“What happened?” 

“What are you doing here?”

“Are you hurt?” 

“GUYS! JUST SLOW DOWN A LITTLE BIT, PLEASE?”

Shocked into silence by the overwhelmed girl’s sudden outburst, both Andrew and Bunny let their jaws hang for a second before clicking them shut. Sophie just rolled her eyes and shook her head at the two. 

“I’m not hurt, okay? Don’t worry!” Megan wiped her eyes. “I just... like to come here when I’m upset. I guess I ended up forgetting about today... I’m sorry...”

“Never mind that now”, Sophie interjected, stepping between the two of them to crouch down to Megan’s level. “Wanna tell us what’s making you so upset in the first place? We might be able to help!”

“It’s Will!”

Andrew winced. 

“He doesn’t believe in you!” She pointed at Bunny, who stared back at her... and then just deflated. And Sophie just looked... lost. 

It only made Andrew cringe all the more. 

Will hurt Megan’s feelings because he didn’t believe? And Bunny and Sophie acted like they couldn’t do a thing?

But... was Will really to blame for not believing? It wasn’t like _Andrew_ had always been the most fervent believer himself....

“Megan, where are you? Mom and Dad are worried!”

Will’s voice coming from afar jerked him back to reality. And as Bunny and Sophie exchanged looks, trying to decide what to do themselves, Andrew just knew that he had one thing he could do.

“Sophie! Bunny! Wait here with Megan!”

The two eyed him in surprise.

He wasn’t sure if it would work, but he had to do _something_!

“I’ll go talk to Will!”, he said, turned on his foot and raced toward Will’s direction before either one of the others could so much as call him to stop...

Or at least that was the plan, but he was stopped in his tracks by a wall of white and grey fur.

“Whoa whoa whoa, lil’ mate!” Andrew looked up, and was met with a look of concern from Bunny, who placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders. He felt warm... 

“What do ye think ye’re gonna do?”

He blinked. Then he remembered himself. “Try to convince Will that you exist, that’s what I’m gonna do!”

Sophie shook his head. “Andrew, it’s not gonna work like that. People who don’t believe aren’t going to believe just because you want ‘em to.” 

The Pooka sighed, looking sad. “Nowadays that’s pretty common, too...”

Andrew looked into Bunny’s emerald green eyes. “Just let me try?”

Those very eyes bugged out a bit as he was taken aback by the boy’s pleading tone and expression, and wasn’t able to reply. His mouth opened, and then closed without a word, and silent he stood, the autumn wind ruffling his silvery fur...

And then Will’s voice called again.

“Megan! There you are... Andrew? Sophie Bennett?”

Bunny looked up and aside, Andrew following his gaze. There Will stood, following down the end of the trail opposite from the one he, Sophie and Bunny had come from, his breath labored and his dark hair damp with sweat. 

“What are you guys doing here?”, he demanded, walking up to the four - or three, to him. Megan whimpered, prompting Sophie to kneel down and clutch her shoulders for comfort, while Bunny took a couple of steps away from the approaching boy - which he couldn’t blame the Pooka for, after being told how unpleasant being walked through could be. 

In the end, it was all up to him, right?

“Wait, Will.” He put himself between Will and the others, stalling his advance. “We... kinda heard what’s going on. Megan is upset that you don’t believe her about the Easter Bunny...”

“Damn right, I don’t!” Will placed his hands on his hips, looking weary. “Look, Andrew, Sophie... Megan is a little too old to keep believing on those fairy tales...”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Bunny cringe at those words. 

“...so, I’m sorry that I’m making you upset, Megan...”

Megan cringed too, and pressed herself closer into Sophie’s chest. 

Will spread his hands. “...but the truth hurts sometimes. I wouldn’t be a good brother to you if I let you believe those lies. You’d only get hurt even worse in the future! And I... don’t want that...”

What a mess...

“You’re wrong, Will!”, Megan shrieked at last. “The Easter Bunny is real! He’s here! You just can’t see him!”

“Megan...”

Andrew felt immense anguish. Will’s heart was in the right place, and still he was hurting everyone’s feelings... just because he didn’t _believe_. 

How on Earth was he supposed to just _do nothing_?

“Will!”, Andrew called, and then repeated softly. “Will...”

His tone was softer than he even thought was possible in that situation... but that was the thing, right? He had to have a _lot_ of tact, or Will just wouldn’t listen.

Will, who was now looking at him. Somehow it was _more_ unnerving than back when they hated each other.

“I know this is difficult to understand, but...” Andrew’s eyes darted around, looking for the best way of reaching out to the dark-haired boy in front of him. “Did you ever consider the possibility that Megan may be telling the truth?”

_Here goes nothing!_

Will stepped back. “Oh, not you too, Andrew! I always knew you had some screws loose, but _this_...?”

“Will... please!” He reached out for the other boy’s shoulders, and laid his hands gently on them. Somehow it was both easy and difficult to ignore being called crazy by a dear friend... it hurt, but he knew... the other just didn’t know better. “It was difficult for me too, you know. I didn’t want to believe... and I hurt Sophie so much... like you’re hurting Megan now. So please, try... try to see things from her point of view!”

Will closed his eyes and shook his head in denial.

“How... how can you ask me that?” Now it was Will’s turn to grab Andrew’s shoulders, though with far more force and desperation to the gesture. His dark eyes bore into Andrew’s... and he saw all the grief in them. “How can you ask me to see something that can’t be real?”

“Will?”

Something was wrong. Will was shaking, even as he let go, dropping his arms to the sides of his body, and he looked _so sad_...

“Dad... Mom... They always said these things didn’t exist...”

Oh. 

So Megan wasn’t the first one to be told that in the family...

“Will...” Andrew’s head jerked around to see Sophie standing beside him, having left her post at Megan’s side without their notice - and how exactly did she do that? The leaves on the ground should have made enough noise to give her away...

Will too seemed shocked.

“Listen, Will. Maybe your parents aren’t... right about everything they say, you know?” She paused for a moment, then continued. “They’re older than you, but... they’re still human.”

Will looked down, still shaking. “But... they were right about me before...”

Andrew winced inside, knowing exactly what Will meant. About him... well, being _an asshole_ in the past.

Still, Sophie just shrugged. “Oh, maybe they were. But that doesn’t make them right about everything.”

“But...!”

Andrew stepped in, seeing the opening in Will’s wavering confidence and going for it. “Will...” He took the boy’s hands into his. “Please, believe in us. The Easter Bunny is really here, with us, right now! We wouldn’t lie about something like this...”

A tense silence fell upon them, with only the wind and the dead leaves they carried making any sound. Will had his eyes shut tight - fighting back tears?

Wait... was he sobbing?

“I... can’t... I can’t see it...” His voice was shaken and punctuated by sobbing. “How can I believe in something I can’t see?”

He looked at Bunny. Bunny, who had stayed silent during the whole exchange, just shrugged helplessly back at him.

“Try imagining him in your head!”, Sophie offered. “He’s a six-foot tall grey rabbit with green eyes...”

“Try doing what I did, Will!”, he blurted, cutting Sophie off. 

Sophie and Will both stared at him.

“I told you, didn’t I? I didn’t believe at first myself... but then I did, and then so can you!”

The two blinked at him. 

“H-How?”

Okay, Will was listening. No turning back now.

“Here...” He cupped Will’s hands again. “Close your eyes... now focus on the mental image Sophie gave you...”

“What if it’s wrong-“

“Sssh... just do it. Don’t doubt yourself, . Now... repeat with me... I _believe_!”

He heard Bunny gasp behind him for some reason, but he didn’t have time for that now. This was important!

“I believe...”

“That’s it! Keep going!”

“I believe... I believe, I believe, I believe...”

They spent a while like that. Andrew prompting, and Will repeating the chant. 

“I believe in the Easter Bunny... I believe he’s here...”

After about five minutes, they stopped. Andrew thought he could feel a different heat in Will’s hands by then, but maybe it was just his normal body heat and he was reading too much into it...

“Breathe... Okay, now try opening your eyes.”

The other boy did as he was told... and promptly jumped back with a yell of surprise. 

“The- the- theee...! It’s the Easter Bunny!!!”

Andrew let out a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding. Sophie beside him did the same. 

Then he couldn’t help but smile. 

It worked... it really worked!

.......................................................

“The First Spell?”

Bunny held up a placating hand at the two confused boys. “Aye, that’s what it’s called by Om- er, by an old wizard called Ombric. It’s called The First Spell because it’s said to be the most important one...” Andrew suddenly felt Bunny’s eyes on him.

The four kids were now sitting by Bunny’s table at the Warren, by the usual spot near the Pooka’s personal burrow.

“And to think he figured it out all on yer own... and now used it like this... ya just gave me a new believer!” He felt the Pooka’s hand on his shoulder... “Thank you so much, Andrew. I’m really proud of ya.”

“Yeah, Andrew! You were really great!”

“It was amazing!”

“Mmhm!”

Overwhelmed by so much attention, the brunette looked away from the others, feeling his face red as a beet now. “Sophie... helped too...”

“Of course!”, Bunny added. “We can’t forget our Sophie’s participation!”

“Oh, please, it was nothing!”, she said from under the scrutiny of the others. “Andrew still did most of the work!”

“Oh, come on, guys...” He felt on fire now from embarrassment.

Still, it _was_ something to be proud of, so he could just accept the praise with grace... right?

........................................................

Time passed.

The visit with Sandy was as eventful as Andrew had now learned to expect. Sand castles, dolphins, manta rays... as his friends looked on in wonder, he himself wondered if he had seen that before... 

In his dreams, probably. Literally.

Sandy himself zipped around the air, entertaining Will, Megan and himself at the same time as he sent dreams to the children nearby, all in an amazing act of multitasking that Andrew could only admire, while Sophie and Bunny looked on at the playful children with amusement. 

It had been almost too disheartening when they had to leave the Sandman to his job...

Back home, things improved in a way he hadn’t expected. His friendship with Sophie was a natural thing, sure, but having a complete family - father and mother, who loved each other, loved his siblings and loved _him_ very much...

Went out with him on family programs to the park, camping in the mountains, to the movies... making even boring stuff like Sunday mass enjoyable...

Listened to him when he had problems... really listened to him, and surprisingly enough Mr. Jones had helped _a lot_ on that regard, keeping Mrs. Bennett in check where she would have otherwise run her mouth off on him... and to be fair, even when she was alone she didn’t do that as much anymore...

It all made him happy in a way he didn’t know how to _describe_!

However, they still didn’t believe in the Guardians. Even when Andrew tried to have them perform The First Spell, the way he did with Will. At least they took his failed attempts well, and didn’t call him crazy... unlike when he tried with Jamie. 

He just couldn’t understand. Even if Jamie used to believe, he just... didn’t now. 

“Believing or not is a personal choice, sport. Ya can’t really force it”, Bunny told him. “It only worked with Will because some part of him was clearly willing to believe.”

“And what if you lifted me, or did something to prove your existence?”

But Bunny just shook his head. “They’ll just think ye’re possessed by a ghost or something like that. They’ll get scared, and reject the truth out of it.” He scrunched his eyes, and sighed. “Believe me, I know.” And his tone suggested he _meant_ it.

Left with no other option, Andrew could just sigh along, in defeat. 

But besides that one incident, even Jamie seemed to finally stop seeing him as “a threat to the happiness of his family”, and became much more amicable... if a little prone to annoying him every now and then. 

To Andrew’s dismay, the only conclusion he managed to draw from _that_ was that it seemed to be Jamie’s way of demonstrating affection and concern, and he’d just have to put up with it... bollocks.

Bunny was rubbing off on him, alright. And _that_ was the main issue with him.

It had been so subtle... a look, a smile, a tilt of those long ears, a touch, those powerful legs running up and about... the care he always put into everything he did... the attention he would always spare his friends... Bunny was always on his mind. 

As the days became months and even years... elementary school passed and even middle school ended... and puberty started hitting him with mood swings, nasty pimples, awkward growth spurts... the time passed, and he still failed to realize even then.

But it didn’t stay that way for long.

...................................................

“Mm, ah...”

A now fifteen-year-old Andrew tossed and turned on his bed...

“Mm... oh, God...”

He clutched a pillow tightly, his pants feeling incredibly uncomfortable, and then a name came into his lips...

“Bunny!”

And then he woke up with a start.

He sat up on the bed, his breath labored, sweat dripping on his face. He looked down at the pillow he had been hugging in his sleep, buried his face in it, and _groaned_.

To think it took _this kind of dream_ for him to realize...

He was very much screwed, wasn’t he?

..................................................

_The once-uncaring snowflake could feel the storm forming within himself._

_He thought the damned rabbit would just grow apart from the kids with time, but no... each time he saw them, they seemed **closer**!_

_What did those kids have that he didn’t anyway?_

_With gritted teeth, he gripped his staff tight, and a decision settled within him._

_He would just have to put an end to their ignorant bliss, wouldn’t he?_

...................................................

“So you never told him?”

Andrew took another sip of his coffee before replying. “Nope. And I don’t really intend to.”

He and Will were hanging out around the park after school, sitting on one of the many benches. The air of mid-autumn was crisp, announcing the coming winter, and Andrew stopped feeling like he was _burning up_ in the summer heat for weeks now!

No exams to worry about just yet, no troubles in his life at all... just him, Will, and a nice walk along a mostly-empty park all to themselves, with a cup of coffee to go with it. Those moments of peace where something to be cherished, he decided. Especially given his track record...

“I see...” He quirked an eyebrow at the brunette. “Well, I can’t even begin to think why you’d trade some pretty chicks for a talking rabbit and then keep mum about it, but I’m not going to judge you or tell on you, pal! I’ve got your back!”

“Thanks, Will...”

Andrew chuckled to himself. He still felt a bit _judged_ by the way Will made his comment, but he chose to believe Will hadn’t meant it that way. After all, he knew the other guy pretty well by now, and he was the textbook definition of “straight” if he ever saw one. As well as “musclehead”. Sadly it still seemed to come with some internalized prejudice...

And yet, ironically enough, Will himself was the best proof he had that he maybe wasn’t _gay_ after all - the athletic, muscular, and admittedly charming lad, who drew the attention of many ladies, from their class and out, even from outside their school, failed to stir the slightest bit of romantic interest in Andrew himself. Which led to the conclusion that he just... felt that way specifically for the Pooka. After an awkward moment where he had to explain that to his creeped out friend, who didn’t even bother to hide his relief about the issue.

See? Will was his friend, but he was still somewhat prejudiced when it came to that...

“Anyway, I’m going home now, okay?” Will’s comment snapped him back to reality. “Megan should be there by now, and it’s my turn to make dinner.”

“Sure thing!” Andrew stood up from the bench and stretched as Will made to leave, his backpack already on him. “Take care!”

“You too! See you tomorrow!”

A couple moments later, Will was gone, and Andrew was left all alone in the park. Breathing deep, he filled his lungs with the cool air, disposed of his now empty cup, then started walking around aimlessly. 

Bunny was never going to know. 

He smiled to himself, strolling through trails between the trees at his own leisure. He would take that secret with him to the grave! And he had just trusted Will - the only other one he had trusted with this had been _Sophie_ \- to do the same. 

Bunny just... didn’t have to know. 

He had already told Sophie - who, like him, had felt awkward around the idea, but didn’t discourage him - that he would keep it a secret, and she had respected it! It felt good, having people to trust like that.

And Bunny... he was his friend. More than that, he was almost a parental figure in his life, for all effects and purposes an adult since he had been a child - and long before he had even been born! He just felt... _weird_ , about this crazy desire of his heart... like it wasn’t meant to be.

And yet, he felt surprisingly fine about it. It had been difficult at first, to hide his feelings, and even more so to accept that they most likely would never be returned... but now, it was all fine.

He would keep it hidden, and he would stay Bunny’s friend for the rest of his life, and that was that.

Those thoughts circled on and on around his head... until he felt a cold drop on the tip of his nose. 

Huh?

He looked up. He was amidst a small bosk of dead trees - the same one they found Megan in, back when he convinced Will to believe in Bunny... But it was a different section, and this time the trees were mostly devoid of leaves. In the sky, he saw grey clouds churning toward a heavy storm.

That was when he realized, with a heavy heart, that he ended up quite deep into the woods. The sun was setting, he saw more and more snow begin to fall all around him, and the wind was also picking up speed by the minute. Maybe he should go back...

...but which way was home?

He walked, and walked, and the minutes passed, increasing the teenager’s anxiety... until he was trudging through the snow piling on the ground, and soon he was almost too tired to keep walking or looking for any kind of shelter.

God, was he going to freeze to death all alone? After all this time... was that how it was going to end?

Fortunately, God apparently saw fit to give him a small reprieve, as he walked into a clearing where the snowfall wasn’t as strong...

Wait...

A harsh, out of season snowstorm...

_”He used to be one of us, even if it was for a short time.”_

Oh Jesus...

_Bunny’s eyes looked so sad when he remembered that friend of his..._

Could it be...?

_”His name was...”_

Jack Frost!

And true enough, as he looked toward the clearing, he saw the winter sprite in the dead center of the storm, where once there was just air - dressed in brown pants and a blue hoodie, skin as white as his hair, exactly like Bunny had described! 

There he stood perfectly still, up a few dozen feet in the air like a puppet hanging on an invisible string.

But as the spirit set his eyes him, Andrew realized something was very wrong.

For it definitely wasn’t joy and friendliness he saw - or _sensed_ \- from him...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggested listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l1qczGHOqAo
> 
> Welp, there it goes. It may not seem like much, but the moment Jack has Andrew on his crosshairs is when the real story begins! The story so far was meant to be a small - as in, three-chapters-long-ish, but then evolved into this mess of words... at least now it’s over. 
> 
> Anyway, let’s just hope I’ll live up to the expectations I’ve set for myself and for this story, starting with the oncoming fight scene...
> 
> Yep. A fight scene. What, you thought Jack was going to give Andrew flowers?
> 
> Tsuji out, and see you next chapter!
> 
> Aug 8th: I’ve decided to add a few sentences here and there, to make up for how rushed this chapter has been looking for me, since the moment I’ve put it up - I was trying to go for a smooth transition with the time skip thing, because Andrew’s exact age will be important to the story, but I may have not been all that successful. Hopefully I’ll get to mitigate that in future chapters, with carefully placed flashbacks and the like. 
> 
> Tsuji out.

**Author's Note:**

> So here we are. Almost three years after my first experimental prompt, I'm coming back to this. Hopefully to flesh it out and then finish it as best I can. Hope you enjoy it!


End file.
